^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  ^^' 

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Division 
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Shelf  Number 


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SELECT    DISCOURSES. 


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SELECT    DISCOUPuSES 


ADOLPIIE  MONOD,  KEUMMACHEE,  THOLUCK, 
AND  JULIUS  MtlLLEE; 

TRANSLATED  PROM  THE  FRENCH  AND  GERMAN, 


wiTn 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICES,  AND   DR.  MONOD'S   CELEBRATED 
LECTURE   ON  THE  DELIVERY   OF   SERMONS. 

BY  REV.  H.  C.  FISH,  AND  D.  W.  POOR,  D.D. 


NEW    YOKK: 
SHELDON    AND     COMPANY. 

BOSTON:     GOULD    &    LINCOLN 
LONDON:    TRUBNER   &   CO. 

1  8  GO. 


hNT«RKP  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  185S,  by 

SHELDON",  BLAKEMAN  &   CO., 

k  tie  aerk's  OOice  of  the  Distriot  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southeni  Distri.t  of  New  York 


W.  H.  TiNsoN,  Stercotyper, 


PREFACE. 


The  object  in  the  preparation  and  publication  of  tins 
volume,  lias  been  to  render  accessible  to  Christian 
readers  generally,  some  of  the  rich  literary  and  religious 
treasures  which  lie  hidden  in  the  writings  of  the  good 
and  great  men  here  represented.  Several  of  the  Dis- 
courses here  presented,  have  long  had  the  reputation, 
in  Europe,  of  being  among  the  chefs-WanivvG  of  their 
respective  authors.  This  is  true,  for  example,  of  the 
two  of  Dr.  Monod  on  Woman,  and  his  three  on  The 
Temptation  or  Christ  ;  and  those  of  Dr.  Krummacher 
on  the  same  subject;  which,  for  deep  penetration  and 
lofty  eloquence,  are  not  excelled  by  anything  that  this 
celebrated  author  has  ever  published.  It  is  believed 
that  these  two  sets  of  sermons  on  the  Temptation  of  ouk 
BLESSED  LoED,  comiug  as  they  do  from  two  of  the  ablest 
and  most  eloquent  preachers  of  this  age,  contain  a  more 
touching,  instructive,  and  exhaustive  discussion  of  this 
deeply  interesting  subject  than  is  elsewhere  to  be  found. 

Professor  Tholuck's  Discourse  on  the  Ciikistian  Life 
AS  A  Glorified  Childhood,  is  a  precious  gem  ;  and  each 
of  his  sermons  here  furnished  will  enhance  his  ah-eady 
distinguished  reputation.  Those  of  Professor  Miiller 
will  be  the  more  gratefully  received,  from  the  fact  that 
none  of  his  Discourses,  with  a  single  exception,-  have 
ever  appeared  in  an  English  dress. 

*  In  Pulpit  Eloquence  of  XIX.  Centdbt. 


VI  PKEFACE. 


The  sermon  of  Knimmaclier  entitled  Tjie  Believee's 
CiiALLE2>rGE,  is  a  remarkable  specimen  of  bold  and  abrnpt 
rlietoric,  the  peculiarities  of  which  it  was  difficult  to 
preserve  in  the  translation. 

It  has  been  a  delightful  task,  thus  to  be  the  means 
of  extending  the  acquaintance  of  these  honored  and 
beloved  servants  of  God — now  ripening  off  for  heaven, 
and  one  of  whom  has,  of  late,  already  'gone  up  higher.' 
In  a  very  few  instances  advantage  has  been  taken  of 
former  renderings,  but  not  without  the  most  careful 
revision.  The  part  which  the  translators  respectively 
have  performed  in  the  preparation  of  the  work,  is  indi- 
cated by  the  order  of  their  names  on  the  title-page,  taken 
in  connection  with  the  order  of  the  sermons  in  the 
volume ;  the  first  named  being  particularly  responsible 
for  the  French  department,  and  the  last  named  for  the 
German. 

Newark,  N.  J.,  Apj-il  20,  1858. 


CONTEiSTTS. 


ADOLPHE    MONOD. 

I. 

U^HE   MISSION    OF   A¥OMAN. 

Page  17. 


(yTE 


II. 
HE   LIFE    OF   WOMAN. 

Page  47. 


in. 
THE   LOVER   OF   MONEY. 

Page  83. 
IV. -- 

THE  CONFLICT  OF  CHRIST  WITH  SATAN. 

Page  117. 


THE   VICTORY    OF   CHRIST    OVER   SATAN. 
Page  135. 

VI.  ^ 

THE   WEAPON   IN   CHRIST'S   CONFLICT."^ 

Page  150. 

VII.^ 

VTHE   OMNIPOTENCE    OF   FAITH.      ,  • 

Page  180. 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

F.   W.   KKUMMACHER. 

YIII. 

THE   TEMPTATION    OF   CHRIST. 

•  Page  201. 

IX. 

THE   OBJECT  AND  AGENT   IN  THE   TEMPTATION. 

Tage  212. 
X.    ^ 

THE  ONSET  AND  THE  ARMS  IN  THE  TEMPTATION. 

Page  221. 

XI.  ' 

THE   DEMAND   AND   THE   PROMISED   REWARD. 

Page  238. 

XII.  ' 

THE  LAST  ASSx\ULT  AND  ISSUE  OF  THE  CONTEST. 

Page  250. 
XIII. 

THE   PERIL   AND   SAFETY   OF   THE   CHURCH. 

Page  259. 

XIV.  ^ 

THE   BELIEVER'S   CHALLENGE. 

Page  275. 

AUG.   F.   a.   THOLUCK. 

XV.  > 

THE   BETRxVYAL   OF   JESUS. 
Page  295. 

XVI.  ' 

THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  A  GLORIFIED  CHILDHOOD. 
Page  305. 


CONTENTS.  IX 

XVII.  '' 

THE   TOUCHSTONE   OF   HUMAN   HEARTS. 
Page  315. 

XVIII.  ' 

THE   FATHER   DRAWING   MEN   TO   THE   SON. 
Page  ?y'11. 

JULIUS    MULUER. 

XIX. 

THE   SUPERIOR   MIGHT   OF    GOD'S   SERVANTS. 

Page  343. 
XX. 

THE   WALK   OF   CHRIST   UPON   THE   WAVES. 

Page  355. 
XXI. 

THE   RELATION    OF   RELIGION   TO   BUSINESS. 
Page  367. 

XXII.  '^ 

THE   LONGING   FOR   HOxAIE. 
Page  SSO. 

APPENDIX.  "" 
THE    DELIVERY    OF    SERMONS. 
BY   ADOLPHE  MONOD. 
Page  395. 


ADOLPHE    MONOD,    D.  D. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

Dr.  Monod  *  was  a  son  of  the  late  Ecv.  John  Monod,  of  Paris. 
He  had  seven  brothers  and  three  sisters,  all  of  whom,  it  is  believed, 
survive  himv  Three  of  his  brothers  are  in  the  ministry  of  the  gos- 
pel— all  evangelical,  faithful,  and  most  highly  esteemed  brethren. 
The  oldest  is  the  Eev.  Dr.  Frederic  Monod,  who  is  pastor  of  one  of 
the  churches  in  Paris,  connected  with  the  Free  Church  of  France. 
The  Eev.  William  Monod,  another  brother,  is  now  pastor  of  a  Pro- 
testant Church  in  Paris.  The  youngest  brother  is  the  Eev.  Horace 
Monod,  one  of  the  French  pastors  at  Marseilles. 

Dr.  Adolphe  Monod,  as  well  as  his  brothers,  was  educated  mainly 
at  home,  under  private  teachers  and  professors,  and  then,  according 
to  the  liberal  practice  which  prevails  in  France,  he  underwent  an  ex- 
amination in  one  of  the  colleges  of  Paris,  and,  paying  the  usual  fees, 
received  his  diploma  as  Bachelor  of  Letters.  His  theological 
studies,  we  believe,  were  pursued  in  Geneva,  in  the  Theological  de- 
partment of  the  Academy  (or  University,  as  we  should  call  it)  of 
that  city.  For  two  or  three  years  he  preached  to  a  French  congre- 
gation at  Naples,  holding  the  post  of  chaplain  to  the  Embassy  of 
Prussia.  From  that  city  he  was  called  to  be  one  of  the  pastors  of 
the  N'ational  Protestant  Church  in  Lyons,  in  France,  when  his  great 
pulpit  talents  soon  made  him  widely  known.  He  was  even  chosen 
president  of  the  consistory  of  that  church. 

But  he  had  not  long  been  settled  in  the  church  in  Lyons,  before  his 
mind  was  led  by  the  grace  and  Spirit  of  God  to  embrace  heartily  the 
evangelical  system.  As  soon  as  he  had  clearly  apprehended  Christ 
as  the  Son  of  God,  as  well  as  the  Son  of  Man — as  the  only  Mediator 

*  Pronounced  as  if  the  d  were  lost :  thus,  Mono. 

18 


14:  ADOLPHE   MOXOD. 

betTveen  God  and  man — his  preaching  began  to  partake  of  the  glori- 
ous change.  At  first,  and  for  a  while,  the  rich  and  worldly  church 
of  Lyons,  to  which  he  (with  two  other  pastors,  men  of  a  very  differ- 
ent spirit)  ministered,  were  astonished.  Soon  dissatisfaction  with 
truth  began  to  manifest  itself,  and  in  a  few  months  the  distinguished 
but  humble  servant  of  Christ  was  compelled  to  resign  his  place,  and 
open  an  independent  chapel,  on  truly  evangelical  principles.  About 
seventy  people,  mostly  poor  but  pious  persons,  followed  hnn.  He 
commenced  his  labors  in  a  large  room  in  the  third  story  of  a  private 
house.  Soon  it  was  filled  to  overflowing.  It  was  again  and  again 
enlarged,  until  it  held  nearly  four  hundred  people.  As  it  could  be 
enlarged  no  more,  it  was  resolved  to  build  a  chapel  or  church  in  a 
more  central  part  of  the  city. 

From  Lyons,  Dr.  Monod  was  called,  in  1836,  to  the  Theological 
Seminary  at  Montauban,  where  he  became  Professor  of  Sacred  Elo- 
quence. This  appointment  he  received  from  the  hands  of  Baron 
Petit,  a  Protestant  nobleman  of  evangelical  sentiments,  who  was 
for  a  considerable  period  Minister  of  Public  Instruction  in  the  reign 
of  Louis  Philippe.  For  several  years  Dr.  Monod  filled  with  great 
ability  the  professorship  which  he  held  in  the  only  theological  institu- 
tion of  the  Xational  Ptcformed  Church  of  France.  During  that  period 
ho  wrote  several  of  his  most  valuable  publications.  In  his  vacations 
he  visited  Paris  and  other  important  cities,  and  was  always  heard, 
when  he  preached,  by  great  crowds  of  people  ;  or  else  ho  made 
missionary  tours  in  the  ancient  provinces  of  Saintonge,  Poitou,  or 
other  districts  in  southern  and  south-western  France. 

The  last  seven  or  eight  years  of  the  life  of  Dr.  Adolpho  Monod 
were  spent  at  Paris,  where  he  preached  the  gospel  with  great  effect, 
to  large  and  delighted  audiences.  Ilis  labors,  and  those  of  Dr. 
Grandpierrc  and  other  distinguished  brethren  of  the  same  school, 
have  done  much  to  make  the  evangelical  doctrines  known  and  re- 
spected among  tliose  who  attend  the  churches  of  the  Reformed  body 
in  that  great  and  important  city. 

It  was  on  Sunday,  April  IG,  185G,  that  this  honored  servant  of 
Christ  ceased  from  his  labors.  Ilis  death-bed  was  one  of  intense 
eiiffering,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  glorious  and  gracious  triumph. 
In  the  full  and  perfect  assurance  of  his  salvation  through  Christ, 
and  in  peace,  he  commended  his  spirit  into  the  hands  of  his  Heavenly 
Father.     A  few  days  previous  to  his  decease,  he  was  heard  to  f^aj : 


BIOGEAPHICAL   NOTICE.  15 

*'  My  ministerial  ladors,  my  worJcs,  ony  preacliing.  I  reckon  all  as  filthy 
rags  ;  a  drop  of  my  Saviour's  Hood  is  infinitely  more  precious.'''' 

At  the  time  of  his  deatli  he  was  not  far  from  fifty-six  years  of 
age ;  and  to  show  how  deeply  he  was  beloved  among  the  pious  men 
and  women  of  France,  it  is  only  needful  to  say,  that  while  lie  la}- 
dying  in  Paris,  in  the  remotest  extremities  of  the  nation  the  dispersed 
Protestants  were  holding  circles  of  prayer  for  him.  French  Protest- 
antism universally  wept  at  the  news  of  his  death. 

As  a  preacher,  it  would  not  be  asserting  too  much  to  say,  that 
Adolphe  Monod  occupied  the  first  rank  in  France.  Although  not 
a  large  man,  or  a  man  of  commanding  appearance,  he  was  neverthe- 
less a  prince  among  preachers.  Ilis  voice  is  said  to  have  been 
melody  itself,  and  ever  under  perfect  control.  As  to  his  discourses, 
those  which  he  delivered  in  large  assemblies  were  almost  invariably 
prepared  with  great  care,  written,  and  committed  to  memory. 
And  yet  his  extemporaneous^  or  rather  his  unwritten  sermons  or  lec- 
tures were  represented  as  admirable  for  beauty  of  style,  for  clear- 
ness of  conception,  and  for  adaptation  to  the  occasion. 

Says  Dr.  Baird,  in  a  letter  written  several  years  ago:  "I  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying,  that  Adolphe  Monod  is  the  most  finished  orator 
I  have  heard  on  the  Contment,  Modest,  humble,  simple  in  his 
appearance  and  dress,  possessing  a  voice  which  is  music  itself,  his 
powerful  mind,  and  vivid  but  chaste  imagination,  made  their  influ- 
ence felt  on  the  soul  of  every  hearer  in  a  way  that  is  indescribable. 
The  nearest  approach  to  giving  a  true  idea  of  it  would  be  to  say, 
that  his  eloquence  is  of  the  nature  of  a  cTiarm  which  steals  over  one, 
and  yet  is  so  subtle  that  it  is  not  possible  to  say  in  what  consists  its 
elemental  force.  It  is  an  eloquence  the  very  opposite  of  that  of  the 
late  Dr.  Chalmers,  which  was  like  a  torrent  that  carries  everything 
away.  I  have  often  heard  Eavignan,  the  great  Jesuit  preacher,  in 
France ;  and  Bautain,  by  far  the  best  preacher,  in  my  opinion,  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  that  I  have  heard ;  but  they  were  much 
inferior  to  Adolphe  Mono(V  If  ^^^  late  Professor  Vinet,  of  Lau- 
Banne,"  he  adds,  "  was  the  Pascal  of  the  French  Protestants  in  these 
days  (as  he  certainly  was),  Dr.  Adolphe  Monod  was  their  Bossuet. 
But  Drs.  Vinet  and  Monod  were  incomparably  superior  to  Pascal 
and  Bossuet  as  expounders  of  evangelical  truth,  which  is,  after  all, 
the  highest  glory  of  the  Christian  teacher." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  late  Abbe  Lacordaire,  the  Dominican. 


16  ADOLPHE   MOXOD. 

who  was  by  far  the  most  popular  of  the  Romish  priests  in  France, 
in  his  day,  remarked  to  his  friends,  after  hearing  him  :  ••  We  are  all 
children,  in  comparison  with  this  man."  Beside  a  strong  and  vivid 
intellect,  what  the  French  call  onctlon  was  the  characteristic  of 
Monod's  preaching.  He  was  ineffably  impressed,  himself,  with  the 
truth  he  preached,  and  the  earnestness  of  his  soul  thrilled  every 
tone  and  every  gesture. 

But  great  as  were  Dr.  Monod's  talents,  and  fascinating  as  was  his 
eloquence,  these  qualities  were  rivalled  by  his  unfeigned  piety,  his 
profound  humility,  his  cordial  friendship,  his  simple  and  truly  Chris- 
tian manners,  the  purity  of  his  conversation,  and  the  uniform  cheer- 
fulness of  his  life. 

Dr.  Monod  is  said  to  have  left  written  productions  from  which 
several  volumes  might  be  formed,  that  would  be  equal  in  beauty  of 
style,  in  beauty  of  thought,  in  force  of  logic,  and  vastly  superior  in 
true  instruction,  to  anything  which  Bossuet,  Fenelon,  Flechiere,  or 
Bourdaloue — the  so-called  "greats"  of  the  Eoman  Catholic  Church 
in  France — ever  wrote.  He  had  published  several  things  of  great 
merit.  His  Introduction  to  the  French  edition  of  Dr.  Hodge's 
"Commentary  on  Eomans,"  his  "Zwcz7?^,"  his  "  J^eTwwie"  (Woman), 
his  "Controversy  with  a  Eomish  Priest,"  at  Lyons,  his  "Lecture  on 
the  Delivery  of  Sermons,"  etc.,  are  pronounced  by  a  high  authority 
^'"perfect  gems."* 

The  accompanying  beautiful  and  striking  portrait  of  Dr.  Monod  is 
the  only  one  ever  presented  to  the  American  public.  It  has  been 
engraved  with  great  care  from  one  published  in  Paris  some  years 
since,  and  which  is  pronounced  by  those  acquainted  with  Dr.  Monod, 
an  admirable  likeness.     ^ 


*  Rev.  Robert  Baird,  D.D.,  to  whom  indebtedness  is  acknowiedged  for  many  of  the 
above  particulars. 


DISCOURSE    I. 
THE   MISSION   OF   WOMAN. 

"And  the  Lord  God  said,  It  is  not  good  that  man  should  be  alone  :  I  will  make  an 
helpmeet  for  him." — Genesis,  ii.  IS. 

My  dear  Sisters  : 

If  I  address  myself  to  you  to-day,  the  other  part  of  this 
audience,  accustomed  to  observe  its  name  at  the  head  of  our 
discourses,  has  no  reason  to  be  jealous.  We  are  speaking  for 
man  when  we  address  woman  and  endeavor  to  sanctify  her  influ- 
ence. Yes,  her  injluence.  In  refusing  to  her  authority,  which 
emanates  from  the  strong  over  the  weak — a  necessity  in  the 
nature  of  things — the  Creator  has  assigned  to  her  injluence, 
which  generally  emanates  from  the  weak  over  the  strong  ;  an 
influence  freely  accepted,  but  accepted  on  the  condition  that  it 
should  not  be  manifest. 

I  hesitate  not  to  say  it :  the  mightiest  influence  which  exists 
upon  the  earth,  both  for  good  and  for  evil,  is  concealed  in  the 
hand  of  woman.  History  declares  it  with  me,  although  the  his- 
torian does  not  always  say  it — perhaps  because  he  is  ignorant  of 
this  secret  power,  or  because  he  keeps  it  secret  to  profit  by  the 
self-admiration  either  of  one  sex  or  the  other.  Let  us  study  the 
past.  Nothing  more  truly  distinguishes  the  savage  state  from 
the  civilized,  the  east  from  the  west,  paganism  from  Christianity, 
antiquity  from  the  middle  ages,  the  middle  ages  from  modern 
times,  than  the  condition  of  woman.     Who  knows  not,  for  ex- 

17 


18  ADOLPHE   MOXOD. 

ample,  that  the  single  word  polygamy  or  monogamy  determines 
the  manners  and  destinies  of  a  people  ?  Let  us  observe  what  is 
going  on  around  us.  Woman  will  be  found  everywhere  in  the 
world,  as  the  poet  represents  Agrippina  in  the  Senate — 

"  Behind  a  yeil,  invisible  and  present." 

As  by  a  woman  Satan  entered  into  the  innocent  race,  so  shall 
we  generally  trace  to  woman  the  calamities  and  crimes  which 
desolate  humanity — the  hatreds,  the  revenges,  the  trials,  the 
suicides,  the  duels,  the  murders,  and  the  wars.  And  as  by  a 
woman  our  Saviour  came  into  the  fallen  race,  so  shall  we  equally 
trace  to  woman  the  thoughts  and  the  works  which  elevate  and 
bring  peace  to  humanity — the  tender  devotions,  the  generous 
sacrifices,  the  holy  aspirations,  the  religious  institutions,  and  the 
public  charities.  Is  it  not  for  this  reason  that  art  and  poetry,  in 
all  ages,  have  personified  the  moral  powers  by  women;  and  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  himself,  in  the  Proverbs,  has  delineated  under 
the  traits  of  two  women  the  two  opposite  tendencies  which 
divide  the  world  ?  * 

Imparting  to  this  terrible  influence  of  woman  a  salutary  direc- 
tion, by  studying  with  her  the  mission  which  she  has  received 
from  God,  we  shall  serve  the  highest  interests  of  the  human 
race. 

By  your  mission,  women  who  hear  me,  I  understand  here  the 
distinctive  mission  of  your  sex.  It  has  a  general  one  which  it 
shares  with  ours  :  to  glorify  in  his  representation  on  the  earth 
the  God  who  created  us  in  his  image,  and  who,  seeing  this 
image  effaced  by  sin,  has  reproduced  it  in  his  Son.  From  this 
point  of  view,  as  "  there  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  neither  bond 
nor  free,"  so  is  there  also  "  neither  male  nor  female  ;  for  we  are 
all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  But,  included  in  this  common  mission, 
which  should  be  the  first  object  of  your  ambition  as  well  as  of 

*  Compare  Prov.  rii.  and  viii. ;  and  Lx.  1-12,  Tvith  ix.  13-lS. 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  19 

ours,  there  is  for  you  a  special  mission,  adapted  to  your  peculiar 
endowments.  Depend  not  upon  the  world  to  teach  you  this 
mission  ;  it  has  never  known  it ;  it  is  not  able  to  comprehend 
it ;  for  it  has  ever  reduced  the  question  which  concerns  you  to 
the  meagre  proportions  of  its  own  self-interest,  or  your  vanity. 
It  remains,  then,  that  we  refer  it  to  the  word  of  God  ;  to  that 
word  which,  mainly  occupied,  as  it  shows  itself  to  be,  with  "  the 
one  thing  needful,"  resolves,  in  passing,  all  the  great  problems 
of  humanity ;  and,  uniting  example  to  precept,  judges  wisely 
concerning  all  things,  because  it  judges  spiritually. 

I  open  to  the  first  jDages  of  the  first  book,  so  well  named 
Genesis,  because  it  reveals  the  secret  of  all  existences  in  their 
wonderful  origin,  and  throws  out  to  us,  as  if  spontaneously,  the 
highest  philosophy  in  primitive  acts,  recounted  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  primitive  times.  There,  immediately  after  those  few 
words,  in  which  God  sums  up  the  general  mission  of  humanity, 
''Let  us  make  man  in  our  image,"  do  wc  discover  another, 
in  which  he  sums  up  in  like  manner  the  special  mission  of  ivoman, 
before  creating  her  in  her  turn  :  "  It  is  not  good  that  man 
should  be  alone  ;  I  will  make  him  an  helpmeet  for  him."  This 
applies  to  every  woman,  not  simply  to  the  one  w^ho  is  married  ; 
for  Eve  is  not  only  the  wife  of  the  first  man,  she  is  also  the  first 
woman  :  and,  the  representative  of  all  her  sex,  as  Adam  is  of 
ours,  she  presents  in  herself,  as  in  a  sort  of  miniature,  a  type  of 
her  sex. 

Let  us  start  out  with  this  thought  which  presides  at  your  very 
birth  ;  and  let  us  take,  as  our  guide  in  developing  it,  the  inspired 
oracles  of  the  old  and  new  economy.  We  shall  not  be  in  danger 
of  going  astray  in  a  path  where  God  himself  has  marched  before 
as.  And  well  is  it  that  your  own  heart  will  achieve  the  demon 
Btration,  and  oblige  you  to  say,  while  listening  to  the  claims  ol 
God's  word  upon  you  ;  yes,  this  is  truly  what  I  ought  to  be  : 
this  is  truly  what  I  ought  to  do. 

"It  is  not  good  that  man  should  be  alone."  Loaded  with 
the  gifts  of  God,  he  still  w^ants  something,  of  which  he  is  him- 


20  -  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

self  ignorant,  or  of  which  he  knows  nothing  except  by  a  vague 
presentiment  ; — a  helper  "  like  to  himself ;  "  without  which  life 
is  to  him  but  a  solitude,  and  Eden  a  desert.  Endowed  with  a 
nature  too  communicative  to  be  self-sufficient,  he  demands  a 
partnership,  a  support,  a  complement,  and  only  half  lives  while 
he  lives  alone.  Made  to  think,  to  talk,  to  love,  his  thought  is 
in  search  of  another  thought,  to  stimulate  it  and  to  reveal  it  unto 
itself ;  his  word  dies  away  in  sadness  on  the  air,  or  awakens  a 
mere  echo  which  does  violence  to  it,  rather  than  responds  to  it ; 
and  his  love  knows  not  where  to  fasten  itself,  and,  falling  back 
upon  himself,  threatens  to  become  a  devouring  self-love.  His 
whole  being,  in  fine,  aspires  to  another  self, — but  that  other  self 
does  not  exist  :  "  for  Adam  there  was  not  found  a  helpmeet." 
The  visible  creatures  which  surround  him  are  too  far  bdoio  him  ; 
the  invisible  Being  who  has  given  him  life,  too  far  above  him,  to 
unite  their  condition  to  his.  Then,  God  formed  woman,  and  the 
great  problem  was  solved.  Behold  here,  what  Adam  demanded  ; 
that  other  self  which  is  himself,  and  at  the  same  time  not  himself. 
Woman  is  a  companion  whom  God  has  given  to  man  to  charm 
his  existence,  and  to  double  it  by  sharing  it  with  another.  Her 
vocation  by  birth  is  a  vocation  of  charity. 

To  this  vocation  corresponds  the  place  which  God  has  assigned 
to  woman.  It  is  not  an  inferior  place  :  woman  is  not  only  a 
helper  for  man,  but  a  helper  "like  to  himself."*  She  ought, 
then,  to  march  along  as  his  equal,  and  it  is  only  in  this  condition 
that  she  can  bring  to  him  the  assistance  which  he  requires.  But 
it  is,  nevertheless,  a  secondary  and  dependent  place  :  for  woman 
was  formed  after  man,  made  for  man,  in  short,  taken  from  man. 
This  last  characteristic  speaks  volumes  to  man.  Taken  from 
him,  "  she  is  bone  of  his  bone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh,"  and  so 
closely  united  to  him,  that  he  cannot  depreciate  her  without 
depreciatmo;  himself.     But  at  the  same  time,  taken  from  him, 


*  Thi3  is  the  rendering  of  the  French  for  "  helpmeet,"— Un  aide  semblable  a  lul.— 
Trassl. 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  *2l 

she  owes  to  him  tlie  life  which  she  breathes,  and  the  name  which 
she  bears.  By  what  right, — I  ought  to  say  with  what  heart, — 
can  slie  dispute  with  him  the  first  rank  ?  Her  position  by  Ijirtli 
is  a  position  of  humility.  A  vocation  of  charity  in  respect  to 
man,  in  a  position  of  humility  next  to  man  : — This  is  the  mission 
of  woman.  As  to  the  rest,  that  vocation  and  that  position, 
revealed  by  the  same  acts,  resulting  from  the  same  principle,  are 
so  inseparable  in  the  formation  of  woman,  that  we  may  include 
them  in  the  general  idea  of  renunciation,  bearing  in  turn  upon 
self-will  and  self-glory. 

This  commentary  upon  Moses,  I  have  taken  from  Saint  Paul, 
recalling  to  the  Corinthians  the  condition  of  woman,  in  order  to 
justify  his  prohibition  to  her  of  praying  or  prophesying  with  the 
head  uncovered.  This  subject  does  not  require  him  to  enlarge 
upon  woman's  vocation  of  charity  :  he  merely  indicates  it  in 
saying  "  the  woman  was  created  for  the  man." 

But  observe  in  what  terms  he  explains  her  position  of  humility  ; 
"  But  I  would  have  you  know,  that  the  head  of  every  man  is 
Christ  ;  and  the  head  of  the  woman  is  the  man  ;  and  the  head 
of  Christ  is  God.  The  man  is  the  image  and  glory  of  God  : 
but  the  woman  is  the  glory  of  the  man.  JSTeither  was  the  man 
created  for  the  woman  ;  but  the  woman  for  the  man."  Is  not 
this  the  doctrine,  which  I  just  found  in  Genesis  ?  But  this 
doctrine  the  Apostle  enforces  with  a  rigor  which  would  be  out 
of  place  in  any  other  mouth  ;  and  for  the  general  idea  of 
dependence  at  which  I  pause,  he  substitutes  the  more  precise 
one  of  subordination.  He  concludes  from  thence  that  woman 
ought,  "  because  of  the  angels"  who  contemplate  what  is  pass- 
ing upon  the  earth,  and  particularly  in  the  church,  "  to  bear 
upon  her  head  a  mark  of  the  authority"  under  which  she  is 
placed.  Man,  whose  birth  formed  a  part  of  that  great  work  of 
creation  which  inspired  the  angelic  songs  of  joy,  being  the  image 
and  glory  of  God,  owes  it  to  God  to  appear  with  the  head  lifted 
up  to  the  view  of  the  whole  universe.  But  woman,  whose  forma- 
tion is  an  event  of  the  second  scheme,  and,  so  to  speak,  of  a 


90, 


ADOLPIIE   MONOD. 


family  character,  being  the  glory  of  tlic  mau,  owes  it  to  liim  to 
remaia  hidden  in  a  comparatively  narrow  inclosure  as  a  modest 
spouse  in  her  own  home. 

The  intention  of  the  Apostle  is  the  more  marked  as  the  instruc- 
tions which  he  gives  here  are  intended  for  woman  in  rare  cases. 
For  it  is  only  as  an  exception  that  a  woman  can  be  called  to 
pray  or  prophesy  before  men.  The  order  which  God  has  estab- 
lished for  a  certain  end  he  is  free  to  modify  so  as  the  better  to 
gain  that  end.  We  sometimes  sec  that  in  promoting  the  good 
of  man,  a  woman  is  called  to  depart  from  the  way  prescribed  to 
her  ;  it  may  be  to  prophecy,  as  the  women  of  Corinth,  as  the 
four  daughters  of  Philii3,  the  deacon,  or  as  the  mother  of  King 
Lemuel.  It  may  be  as  Deborah,  to  judge  a  people,  or  even  to 
preside  over  a  mighty  expedition.  In  such  cases  woman  must 
obey,  and  she  shall  be  blessed  in  her  obedience  :  "  Blessed  above 
women  shall  Jael  be,  blessed  shall  she  be .  above  women  in  the 
tent."  But  then,  as  ever,  aside  from  what  is  essential  to  the 
extraordinary  ministry  with  which  she  is  clothed,  she  should 
remain  a  woman,  according  to  St.  Paul,  and,  all  inspired  as  she  is 
to  caution  the  man,  should  remember  that  she  is  "  the  glory  of 
the  man,"  and  should  withdraw  herself  from  the  eyes  of  the  world. 

Such  being  the  order  of  creation,  it  remains  to  inquire  if  the 
primitive  mission  of  woman  was  changed  by  the  fall  of  our  race, 
which  disturbed  so  deeply  the  work  of  God.  Satan  commenced 
by  beguiling  the  woman,  after  Which  he  employed  her  to  beguile 
man  ;  a  doubly  skillful  move,  by  which  he  was  most  sure  to 
succeed  with  her,  because  she  is  weaker  than  man,  and  close  to 
man,  and  because  she  has  greater  power  over  him  than  he  has 
over  her.  But  has  this  sweet  empire  been  given  to  her,  that 
she  may  domineer  over  the  conscience  of  mau,  become  a  snare  to 
him  rather  than  a  support,  and  return  to  him  for  the  life  which 
she  received  from  him,  sin  and  death  ?  God  punished  her  for 
her  abandoned  charity,  by  that  supreme  suffering  without  which 
she  could  not  henceforth  continue  the  race  of  man  ;  and  for  her 
unacknowledged  humility,  by  abasing  still  lower  her  condition. 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  23 

"  Thy  desires  shall  be  unto  thy  Imsbancl,  and  he  shall  rule  over 
thee."  Woman  is  compelled  to  look  to  her  husband  for  all 
that  she  desires — here  is  her  increased  dependence  ;  and  to  live 
under  his  authority — here  is  her  dependence  converted  into 
submission. 

Think  not,  meanwhile,  that  she  ceases  to  be  an  "  help-meet " 
unto  him.  Alas!  when  was  this  tender  aid  more  needed? 
Such  is  the  mercy  of  God,  that  the  moment  in  which  lie  hum- 
bles woman,  is  also  the  moment  in  which  He  confers  upon  her  a 
ministry  greater  and  more  humane  than  ever.  In  order  to 
elevate  and  reestablish  between  the  two  sexes  the  disturbed 
equilibrium,  it  is  by  a  virgin  that  He  will  one  day  give  to  man 
the  longed-for  Restorer,  who  shall  destroy  the  w^orks  of  the 
devil ;  and  the  first  name  under  which  He  announced  his  Son  to 
the  world  is  that  of  the  '*  seed  "  of  the  woman  :  "  And  I  will  put 
enmity  between  thee  and  the  woman,  and  between  thy  seed  and 
her  seed  ;  it  shall  bruise  thy  head,  and  thou  shalt  bruise  his 
heel."  Thus,  the  relations  are  not  essentially  changed  by  the 
fall ;  the  vocation  of  woman  is  still  one  of  charity,  and  her  posi- 
tion that  of  humility.  Only  everything  has  taken  a  more  serious 
character  ;  the  charity  has  become  more  spiritual,  exercised  in  a 
more  profound  humility.  Ashamed  of  herself,  and  anxious  to 
reestablish  herself,  woman  lives  henceforth  but  to  repair  the 
wrong  which  she  had  done  to  man  in  heaping  upon  him,  with 
the  consolation  which  can  sweeten  the  present  bitterness  of  sin, 
the  warnings  which  may  prevent  its  eternal  bitterness. 

Another  commentary  borrowed  from  St.  Paul :  "I  will  that 
women  adorn  themselves  in  modest  apparel,  with  shamefaced- 
ness  and  sobriety  ;  not  with  broidered  hair,  or  gold,  or  pearls, 
or  costly  array  ;  But  (which  becometh  women  professing  godli- 
ness) with  good  w^orks.  Let  the  woman  learn  in  silence,  with 
all  subjection.  But  I  suffer  not  a  woman  to  teach,  nor  to  usurp 
authority  over  the  man,  but  to  be  in  silence  ;  For  Adam  was 
first  formed,  then  Eve.  And  Adam  was  not  deceived,  but  the 
woman  being  deceived  was  in  the  transgression.     Not  withstand 


2-1  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

ing  she  shall  be  saved  in  childbearhig,  if  they  continue  in  faith 
^nd  charity,  and  holiness  with  sobriety."  Woman,  says  the 
Apostle  here,  was  second  in  birth  and  first  in  sin — double  reason 
why  she  should  continue  in  an  attitude  of  modesty,  silence, 
and  submission.  Behold  here,  in  no  equivocal  terms,  the  place 
of  humility  that  we  have  already  assigned  to  woman.  Bat  the 
Apostle  would  have  her  make  it  a  place  of  honor  by  Christian 
beneficence.  There  is  a  chaste  adorning  which  admirably  befits 
her — that  of  good  works  ; — good  works,  these  are  the  tresses,  the 
gems,  the  jewels,  the  adornings  which  give  her  beauty  in  the 
eyes  of  God  and  man.  Nor  is  this  all.  Woman  shall  procure 
salvation  for  man,  at  the  same  time  that  she  obtains  it  for  her- 
self, by  the  childbearing  of  the  promised  seed.  This  salvation 
a  woman  shall  give  to  the  world,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  by 
giving  birth  to  the  Saviour  ;  but  the  woman,  whoever  she  may 
be,  will  also  give  it  to  him  in  her  way,  who  teaches  him  to  knov/ 
and  love  the  Saviour.  Here  again  is  this  mission  of  charity 
which  we  have  assigned  to  woman,  and  which  imposes  upon  her 
the  obligation,  we  say  rather  which  confers  upon  her  the  privi- 
lege, of  consecrating  herself  with  redoubled  tenderness,  not  only 
to  the  consolation  of  suffering  man,  but  also  to  the  salvation  of 
sinful  man,  whose  attention  she  shall  turn  to  Jesus  Christ. 

Woman  is  then,  according  to  Scripture,  which  is  to  say 
according  to  God,  since  the  creation,  and  more  especially  since 
the  fall,  a  companion  given  to  man  to  labor  for  his  good,  and 
above  all  for  his  spiritual  good,  in  an  attitude  at  once  modest 
and  submissive. 

Thus  Scripture  instructs  us  ;  and  nature  teaches  the  same 
lessons.  The  task  assigned  by  God  to  each  half  of  the  race  dis- 
covers itself  in  their  dispositions,  reveals  itself  in  their  instincts. 
Consult,  now,  yourselves,  and  tell  me  why  you  were  so  created, 
if  not  for  the  mission  which  we  have  recognized  as  yours  by  the 
Word  of  God. 

Your  place,  we  have  said,  is  a  place  of  dependence  and  humi- 
lity.    Upon  this  point  St.  Paul  hesitates  not  to  appeal  to  the 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  25 

instinctive  convictions  of  his  readers,  wlieu,  after  forbidding  a 
woman  to  pray  or  prophecy  with  her  head  uncovered,  lie  adds  : 
"  Judge  in  yourselves  ;  is  it  comely  that  a  woman  pray  unto  God 
uncovered  ?  Doth  not  even  nature  itself  teach  you,  that  if  a 
man  have  long  hair  it  is  a  shame  unto  him  ?  But  if  a  woman 
have  long  hair,  it  is  a  glory  to  her  ;  for  her  hair  is  given  her 
for  a  covering  ?"  These  principles  appear  so  incontestable  to 
the  Apostle,  that  they  cannot  be  denied,  except  by  an  unworthy 
spirit  of  chicanery  which  ought  not  to  be  entertained.  "  But  if 
any  man  seem  to  be  contentious,  we  have  no  such  custom, 
neither  the  churches  of  God."  Evidently,  the  long  or  short 
hair  characterizes  here  a  general  and  profound  distinction  between 
man  and  woman. 

AVhen  man  goeth  forth  from  his  house  and  gives  himself  to  his 
labor  until  the  evening,  he  chooses  outward  activity  for  his  task, 
public  life  for  his  domain,  and  the  world  for  his  theatre.  What 
do  I  say  ?  he  presents  himself  in  the  sight  of  the  angels,  and 
places  himself  in  affinity  with  the  entire  universe.  He  cannot 
carry  too  far  the  name  and  the  image  of  that  God  whom  he  has 
a  mission  to  represent,  not  only  upon  the  earth,  but  before  the 
whole  creation.  To  resist  the  feeling  which  calls  him  to  go 
forth,  in  order  to  shut  himself  up  within  the  uarrov/  circle  of  the 
domestic  hearth,  this  would  be  on  his  part  weakness,  forgetful- 
ness  of  himself,  infidelity  to  his  mission  ;  nothing  more  remains 
but  to  put  a  spindle  into  his  hands  and  a  distaff  at  his  feet. 

But  it  is  altogether  different  with  -woman  :  the  heart  is  her 
theatre  ;  the  domestic  life  her  sphere  ;  the  in-door  activity  her 
work  ;  and  the  long  hair  with  which  the  Apostle  is  pleased 
to  see  her  covered,  is  an  emblem  of  an  entire  existence  hidden 
and  silent,  in  the  bosom  of  which  she  accomplishes  most  faith- 
fully, and  most  honorably,  the  primary  obligations  of  her  sex. 
"  Woman,"  says  a  great  writer  of  the  age,  "  is  a  flower  which 
emits  not  its  perfume  except  in  the  shade."  To  retire  from 
notice,  to  remain  quiet,  to  devote  herself  to  her  dependents,  to 
keep  the  house,  to  govern  her  family,  this  is  her  modest  ambition 

2 


26  ADOLPIIE    MOXOD. 

If  the  wise  man  paints  for  us  "  a  woman,  noisy,  and  turbulent, 
appearing  in  the  streets,  whose  feet  abide  not  in  the  house,"  you 
will  recall  the  woman  to  whom  this  applies. 

Indeed,  is  not  the  humble  sphere  which  we  assign  to  woman, 
the  one  for  which  her  whole  being  is  predisposed  and  designed 
beforehand  ?  That  more  delicate  conformation,  but  more  frail  ; 
that  more  rapid  pulsation  of  her  heart  ;  that  keener  nervous  sen- 
sibility ;  that  exquisiteness  of  her  organs,  and  even  the  delicacy 
of  her  features  ;  all  contribute  to  make  her,  according  to  the 
expression  of  Peter,  "  a  weaker  vessel,"  and  render  her  constitu- 
tionally unfit  for  stern  and  unyielding  cares,  for  affairs  of  state, 
for  the  labors  of  the  cabinet,  for  all  that  yields  renown  in  the 
world. 

And  do  not  her  intellectual  powers  hold  her  equally  distinct  ? 
It  is  sometimes  asked  whether  they  are  equal  to  those  of  man. 
They  are  neither  equal  nor  unequal,  they  are  different,  having 
been  wisely  adapted  to  a  difi'erent  end.  For  the  work  rq^erved 
to  man,  woman  has  faculties  inferior  to  those  of  man,  or  rather 
she  is  not  adapted  to  it.  I  speak  here  of  the  rule,  not  of 
the  exceptions.  That  there  may  be  among  women  some  minds 
fitted  for  cares  confined  primarily  to  the  other  sex  ;  or  that  there 
may  be  for  an  ordinary  woman  some  situations  belonging  to 
man,  which  she  is  obliged  to  fill  in  default  of  bis  doing  it, 
I  readily  grant,  provided  these  exceptions  are  clearly  indicated 
by  God,  or  demanded  by  the  interests  of  humanity.  After  all, 
in  the  mission  of  woman,  humility  is  but  the  means,  charity  is  the 
end,  to  which  all  must  be  subordinated  ;  and  why  should  not 
God,  who  has  made  exceptions  of  this  nature  in  sacred  history, 
also  make  them  in  general  history  ?  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  leave 
the  exceptions  to  God,  and  to  the  individual  conscience  ;  and, 
jealous  of  discussing  irritating,  personal,  or  even  disputed  ques- 
tions, I  confine  myself  here  to  the  rule. 

Now,  as  a  rule,  that  comprehensive  glance  into  politics  and 
science  which  embraces  the  world,  that  bold  flight  of  metaphysics 
and  of  the  lofty  poetry  which,  transcending  its  limits,  venture? 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  27 

into  the  void  of  thought  aud  imagination,  this  is  not  the  business 
of  woman.  Laiiguage  even,  above  all  ours  (let  us  not  sacrifice 
this  useful  remark  to  the  fear  of  provoking  a  light  smile),  lan- 
guage, that  simple  philosophy  of  the  people,  often  more  i^rofound 
than  that  of  the  schools,  this  sieve  of  the  common  reason,  which, 
of  all  the  bold  expressions  of  the  individual  mind,  allows  only 
those  to  pass  which  respond  to  the  good  sense  of  all,  proTes  this. 
It  does  not  permit  a  woman  to  make  herself  notorious.  It  will 
not  apply  to  her  the  word  "man  "  accompanied  by  a  feminine  ter- 
mination, except  as  an  exj^rcssion  of  ridicule  or  blame.  The 
epithets  taken  from  public  life  honor  man,  but  dishonor  woman 
in  different  degrees.  To  cite  only  those  examples,  which  the 
delicacy  of  this  place  authorizes,  endeavor  to  say,  a  "  woman  of 
science,"  a  ''  great  woman,"  a  "  woman  of  affairs,"  a  *'  woman  of 
state  :"  in  like  manner  talk  of  a  "  domestic  woman  !" 

But,  on  the  contrary,  while  she  acts  within  a  narrow  circle — 
narrow  in  extent,  but  vast  in  influence — where  we  exhort 
woman,  with  the  Scriptures,  to  limit  her  action,  she  has  faculties 
superior  to  those  of  man,  or  rather  which  belong  to  her  alone 
There  she  finds  her  compensation,  while  she  shows  herself  mis 
tress  of  the  domain,  and  calls  into  use  those  secret  resources 
which  I  should  call  admirable,  were  it  not  that  a  more  tender 
feeling  inspires  me  towards  her  and  God  who  endowed  her  with 
them  :  that  practical  insight  which  we  might  say  is  all  the  more 
unerring  because  quick  ;  that  glance  which  seems  to  prefer  to  be 
more  brief  that  it  may  be  more  clear  ;  that  art  of  penetrating 
into  hearts  by,  I  know  not  what  subtle  road,  to  us  unknown  and 
impracticable  ;  that  incessant  omnipresence  of  mind  and  body  at 
all  points  at  once  ;  that  vigilance  as  exact  as  unperceived  ;  those 
numerous  aud  complicated  expedients  of  the  domestic  adminis- 
tration, always  at  hand  ;  access  always  open  to  every  appeal  ; 
and  that  perpetual  audience  given  to  all  the  world ;  that  freedom 
of  action  and  of  thought  in  the  midst  of  bitter  pains  and  accu- 
mulated embarrassments  ;  that  elasticity  shall  I  say  ?  or  that 
indefatigable  weakness  ;  that  exquisite  delicacy  of  feeling  ;  that 


28  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

tact  so  studied,  if  it  were  not  instinctive  ;  that  fidelity  of  perfec- 
tion in  little  things  ;  that  adroit  industry  to  accomplish  what  she 
will  with  her  fingers  ;  that  charming  grace  with  which  she 
animates  the  sick,  cheers  the  drooping,  awakens  the  sleeping  con- 
science, opens  the  heart  long  closed  ;  and,  in  fine,  all  the  many 
things  which  we  know  not  how  to  discern  or  to  accomplish  with- 
out borrowing  her  hands  or  her  eyes. 

But  after  all,  to  what  advantage  is  the  statement  of  these 
facts,  when  we  can  appeal  to  an  inward  sentiment,  planted  by 
the  Creator  in  the  depths  of  your  soul,  and  which  has  preceded 
all  personal  reflections,  all  the  announcements  of  others,  and 
even  the  testimony  of  the  Book  of  God  ?  That  chastity,  that 
modesty,  to  which  a  woman  never  ceases  to  pretend,  even  after 
she  has  ceased  to  keep  it — what  is  this  but  the  proof  engraven 
upon  your  heart,  and  transferred  irresistibly  to  your  counte- 
nance, that  order,  repose,  honor,  is  found  for  you  in  an  attitude 
of  dependence  and  reservedness  ?  Dependence  and  reserve  ;  the 
right  of  which  never  appears  more  inalienable  than  in  certain 
delicate  occasions,  when  the  same  nature  is  making  a  cruel  play 
in  efforts  of  one  part  against  the  other,  without  either  obtaining 
a  victory.  What  woman,  conscious  of  this  dependence,  has  not 
wished,  at  least  sometimes,  the  arm  of  a  man  for  support,  and 
for  a  shelter  the  name  of  a  man  ?  But  what  woman  also,  in 
the  feeling  of  this  reserve,  keeps  not  her  wish  within  her  own 
bosom,  waiting  till  she  is  sought — waiting  if  need  be  till  death, 
hastened  perhaps  by  the  inward  fire  with  which  she  would  rather 
be  consumed  than  let  it  outwardly  be  known  ? 

This  invariable  order  of  marriage,  which  assigns  the  mmo,- 
tive  to  man,  and  the  appearance  of  which  you  will  not  allow,  is 
not  a  refinement  of  civilization,  nor  even  a  scrupulousness  of 
the  gospel :  it  is  a  law  imposed  by  woman,  upon  all  times, 
without  excepting  the  most  barbarous,  and  upon  all  nations, 
without  excepting  the  most  savage.  I  exaggerate.  I  have  a 
vague  remembrance  of  having  read,  in  I  know  not  what  account 
of  a  distant  voyage,  that  a  people  was  discovered  among  whom 


TIIE  MISSION   OF   WOMAN.  29 

woman  takes  the  first  step.     Only,  it  is  a  country  where  she  is 
degraded  to  the  rank  of  the  brute,  and  men  are  cannibals. 

If  nature  is  in  harmony  with  revelation  as  to  the  ;placc  which 
becomes  your  sex—  one  of  humility — it  is  equally  so  as  to  the 
task  belonging  to  it' — one  of  charity.  Here  again,  here  above 
all,  that  which  is  within  the  Book  is  confirmed  by  that  which  is 
within  the  heart  of  woman.  For  what  is  your  natural  inclina- 
tion, if  it  is  not  to  love  ?  I  forget  not,  in  speaking  in  this  way, 
that  your  sex  is  no  more  exempt  than  ours  from  the  egotism 
which  reigns  in  fallen  humanity.  But  try  to  recollect  yourself, 
and  "to  withdraw  into  the  depths  of  your  being;  penetrate  beyond 
the  ravages  which  sin  has  made  there,  even  to  that  primitive 
ground  (allow  me  the  expression),  which  came  forth  from  the 
hands  of  God,  and  tell  me  if  love  is  not  its  essence  and  base. 
"More  superficial  than  man  in  everything  else;"  a  Christian 
thinker  has  said,  "  woman  is  more  profound  in  love."  We  are 
famiUar  with  that  touching  word  of  a  woman.  "  Love  is  only 
an  episode  in  the  life  of  man,  it  is  an  entire  history  in  the  life 
of  woman."*  She  might  have  said  yet  more  :  it  is  her  whole 
being.  Your  origin  itself,  as  Moses  narrates  it,  sufficiently  indi- 
cates this.  That  of  man,  formed  from  inanimate  dust,  has  some- 
thing more  supernatural,  more  striking,  more  magnificent  about 
it ;  that  of  woman,  taken  from  the  throbbing  flesh  of  sleeping 
man,  seems  more  intimate,  more  loving,  more  tender. 

But,  as  regards  love,  it  is  less  the  degree  than  the  character 
that  is  important.  Love  is  the  depth  of  your  being,  but  what 
love  ?  Think,  and  you  will  find  it  to  be  that  which  most  predis- 
poses you  to  the  vocation  of  benevolence  assigned  you  by  the 
Scriptures.  There  are  two  kinds  of  love  :  the  love  which  re- 
ceives, and  the  love  which  gives  ;  the  first  delights  itself  in  the 
feelmg  which  it  inspires,  and  the  sacrifices  which  it  obtains 
The  second  satisfies  itself  in  the  sentiment  which  it  approves, 
and  in  the  sacrifices  it  accomplishes.     These  two  kinds  of  love 

♦  Madame  De  Stael. 


30  ADOLniE   MONOD. 

hardly  exist  separate,  and  woman  knows  them  both.  But  do 
I  presume  too  much  of  her  heart  in  thinking  that  with  her  the 
second  predominates  ;  and  that  her  device,  borrowed  from  the 
unselfish  love  of  which  our  Saviour  has  given  us  an  example,  is 
this  :  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive  ?"  To  be 
loved,  I  know  it  well,  my  sisters,  is  the  joy  of  your  heart;  alas  ! 
a  joy  perhaps  refused  ;  but  to  love,  to  devote  yourselves  out  of 
love,  is  the  need  of  your  soul,  it  is  the  law  even  of  your  exist 
ence,  and  a  law  which  no  one  should  hinder  you  from  obeying 
Man  also  knows  how  to  love  and  must  love  ;  it  is  in  love,  that 
St.  Paul  sums  up  all  the  obligations  that  married  life  imposes 
upon  him:  "Husbands  love  your  wives,'^  as  he  sums  up  those 
of  woman  in  submission :  ''Wives  submit  yourselves  unto  your 
own  husbands."  But  we  are  now  occupied,  not  with  the  faculty 
of  the  obligation,  but  with  the  inclination. 

Now  love,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  is  less  spontaneous,  less 
disinterested  in  man  than  in  woman.  It  is  less  spontaneous. 
Man  often  needs  to  conquer  himself  before  he  can  love  ;  woman 
only  needs  to  listen  and  to  follow  her  inward  impulse.  This  is 
the  reason,  perhaps,  why  Scripture,  which  frequently  commands 
the  husband  to  love,  refrains  from  enforcing  it  upon  the  wife,  as 
if  she  were  competent,  from  her  nature  to  supply  it.  But  above 
all,  it  is  more  disinterested.  Man  loves  woman  more  for  himself 
than  for  her  ;  woman  loves  man  less  for  herself  than  for  him. 
Man,  because  he  is  not  sufficient  unto  himself,  loves  her  whom 
God  has  given  to  him  :  woman,  because  she  feels  herself  im- 
pelled to  love  him  whom  God  has  given  to  her.  If  solitude 
depresses  man,  it  is  because  life  has  no  charm  apart  from  an 
"  helpmeet  ;"  if  woman  dreads  to  live  alone,  it  is  because  life  is 
without  an  aim,  unless  she  can  be  an  "  helpmeet "  to  some  one. 
We  might  say  of  her,  if  I  may  be  permitted  this  reference  for 
the  sake  of  the  serious  spirit  in  which  I  hazard  it.  We  love  her 
because  she  first  loved  us. 

Moreover,  what  is  the  sentiment  which  has  become  among  all 
nations  and  languages  of  the  earth,  the  type  of  a  love  at  once 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  31 

pure,  living  and  profoimd  ?  It  is  woman's  love,  maternal  love  ; 
maternal  love,  wliicli  exhausts  life  without  exhausting  itself,  aud 
which,  after  suffering  everything,  labors  by  day,  and  watches  by 
night,  considering  itself  sufficiently  repaid  with  a  caress  or  a 
smile  ;  maternal  love,  celebrated  as  well  by  moralists  as  by 
poets,  but  whose  praises,  we  believe,  may  be  included  ii\  this 
one  :  that  paternal  love,  itself,  gives  it  the  preeminence. 
What  do  I  say  ?  This  same  love  is  that  of  which  God  made 
choice,  when  he  sought  among  all  human  affections  an  emblem 
for  the  love  which  he  himself  bears  to  his  people.  "But  Zion 
said,  the  Lord  hath  forsaken  me,  and  my  Lord  hath  forgotten 
me."  We  might  expect  to  see  our  Father  in  Heaven  replying 
to  this  doubt  which  offends  him,  by  making  an  appeal  to  the  love 
of  a  father  for  his  child.  But  no,  to  a  mother's  love  he  appeals  ; 
and  to  this  mother  he  gives  the  name  of  woman,  as.  if  to  give 
honor  to  the  treasure  of  riches  deposited  in  the  heart  of  woman, 
found  in  the  heart  of  the  mother  :  "  Can  a  woman  forget  her 
sucking  child,  that  she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  sou 
of  her  womb  ?  yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I  not  forget  thee." 
But  if  such  is  the  heart  of  woman,  how  can  we  fail  to  recog- 
nize a  soil  prepared  expressly  for  this  vocation  of  charity,  which 
the  Scriptures  assign  to  you  close  to  man?  Love  not  only 
inspires  woman  with  a  desire  to  furnish  this  career  of  devotion, 
but  it  also  gives  her  the  courage  for  it.  Courage,  that  is  the 
word.  Yes,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  to  advance  a  paradox  ;  I 
was  about  to  say  there  is  a  kind  of  courage,  and  that  which  is 
the  most  necessary  to  do  good,  which  impels  your  sex  much 
farther  than  ours.  I  speak  not  of  active  courage  ;  here  man 
excels  you,  and  ought  to  excel.  You  yield  to  him  without  regret 
the  merit  of  an  intrepidity  which  would  ill  become  your  sex  : 
and  a  man  of  spirit  has  dared  to  say,  and  that  without  violating 
the  truth,  that  "  women  affect  fear  as  men  do  courage."  I  speak 
of  passive  courage,  which  is  more  constantly  required  than  any 
other  in  the  daily  and  humble  practice  of  good  works,  and  of 
which   woman   furnishes   the   most   beautiful  examples.      iMan 


32  ADOLPIIE   MONOl). 

knows  best  liow  to  do — woman,  best  how  to  endure,  Man  is 
more  enterprising,  woman  more  patient ;  man  more  hold,  woman 
more  strong.  Would  you  be  convinced  of  it  ?  Beliold  her  in 
that  sorrow  of  sorrows  reserved  to  her  sex,  at  the  cost  of  which 
is  human  life  ;  see  her  and  compare  her  with  man,  in  solitude, 
in  sickness,  in  poverty,  in  widowhood,  in  oppression,  in  secret 
martyrdom.  I  say  designedly  secret  martyrdom  ;  for  in  public 
martyrdom,  man  maintains  himself  in  the  rank  of  honor  by  the 
grandeur  of  the  theatre  ;  but,  when  it  comes  to  that  martyrdom 
cautiously  and  cruelly  hidden  in  the  subterranean  cells  of  the 
inquisition,  be  assured  the  advantage  is  on  the  side  of  woman. 
God  knew  all  this,  when  he  portioned  out  life  so  that  woman 
sliould  have  more  of  sufferings  and  less  of  pleasure  than  man  ; 
at  least  if  we  do  not  place  in  the  first  rank  the  pleasure  of  doing 
good.  This  pleasure  woman  enjoys  even  in  suffering,  and  attaches 
herself,  by  suffering,  to  him  for  whom  she  suffers. 

To  a  being  thus  formed,  who  dare  dispute  her  vocation  of 
self-sacrifice  ? — a  vocation  which  her  heart  revealed  to  her  ages 
before  a  line  of  Scripture  was  given  to  the  world  I  Tell  me  not 
that  Scripture  alone  holds  woman  to  the  special  obligation  im- 
posed upon  her  to  labor  for  man's  spiritual  good,  by  a  holy 
charity  which  seeks  God  and  eternity  for  him  before  everything 
else.  Admirable  to  behold  !  nature  has  provided  for  it  :  not,  it 
is  true,  sufficiently  to  make  up  for  the  teachings  of  revelation, 
bul  enough  to  make  up  for  their  deficiency,  enough  to  make  them 
perceived.  For  who  does  not  know  that  woman's  keener  sensi- 
bility, her  more  open  heart,  her  more  sensitive  conscience,  her 
less  logical  mind,  her  finer  and  more  delicate  temperament,  render 
her  more  accessible  to  piety,  while,  at  the  same  time,  her  occu- 
pations being  less  abstruse,  less  continuous,  less  absorbing,  than 
ours,  leave  her  more  leisure  for  prayer  and  freedom  for  the  service 
of  God  ?  Who  knows  not  also  that  the  first  conditions  of  suc- 
cess in  the  spiritual  mission  which  everything  contributes  to  mark 
out  for  her,  are  found  less  in  activity,  in  word,  in  direct  action, 
which  man  almost  entirely  appropriates  to  himself,  than  in  that 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  33 

penetrating  infliieuce  of  example,  of  silence,  of  self-forgetfuluess, 
which  is  peculiar  to  the  woman  who  is  truly  a  woman  ? 

Yes,  we  declare  it  boldly,  if  Scripture  is  not  right,  if  woman 
was  not  made  for  a  mission  of  charity  in  humility,  nature  has 
missed  its  aim  ;  for  woman  has  been  called  to  one  work  and  pre- 
pared for  another. 

Yet  understand  us  aright  :  I  have  not  entered  this  place  to 
flatter  woman,  but  to  sanctify  her.  In  saying  that  nature  has 
prepared  you  for  the  duty  which  Scripture  imposes  upon  you,  I 
have  not  meant  to  say  that  you  are,  in  your  natural  state,  ca- 
pable of  fulfilling  it.  By  one  of  those  strange  contradictions 
which  the  fall  has  introduced  into  our  race,  troubling  the  work 
of  creation  without  destroying  it,  woman  is  at  the  same  time 
prepared  and  unprepared  for  her  vocation  :  prepared,  inasmuch 
as  she  possesses  peculiar  qualities  which  wondrously  adapt  them- 
selves to  it  :  unprepared,  inasmuch  as  she  has  other  qualities 
which  interfere  with  it.  "It  is  the  enemy  who  has  done  this." 
In  the  same  heart  where  the  hand  of  God  deposited  the  precious 
germs  of  a  life  conformed  to  the  mission  of  woman,  Satan  has 
secretly  sowed  those  noxious  germs  which  choke,  or  neutralize, 
the  first.  He  has  done  more.  He  has  sought  with  his  infernal 
skill,  to  corrupt  these  healthful  germs  in  your  heart,  and  to 
gather  from  good  seed  evil  fruit. 

Yes,  these  precious  resources  with  which  the  Creator  has 
endowed  you  to  accomplish  your  work,  the  tempter  knows  how 
to  convert  into  obstacles  to  this  same  work.  Under  his  mys- 
terious and  formidable  influence,  we  see  this  activity  degenerate 
into  restlessness  ;  this  vigilance  into  curiosity  ;  this  tact  into 
artifice  ;  this  penetration  into  temerity  ;  this  promptness  into 
unsteadiness  ;  this  gracefulness  into  coquetry  ;  this  taste  into 
studied  eloquence  ;  this  versatility  into  caprice  ;  this  aptness  into 
presumption  ;  this  influence  into  intrigue  ;  this  power  into  domi- 
nation ;  this  sensitiveness  into  irritability  ;  this  power  of  loving 
into  jealousy  ;  this  necessity  of  being  useful,  into  a  passion  to 

please. 

2* 


Si  ADOLPn-E   MONOD. 

The  two  principal  tendencies  which  we  have  recognized  in 
woman,  humility  and  charity,  have  been  perverted.  The  same 
mental  peculiarity  which  assigns  to  her  the  narrow  circle  of  home 
as  her  sphere,  inclines  her  to  take  small  views  of  things,  and  to 
centre  her  attention  upon  a  single  point,  with  a  strength  pro- 
portioned to  the  narrowness  of  the  field  which  she  embraces  ; 
and,  little  accustomed  to  doubt  either  of  things  or  of  herself, 
impatient  of  contradiction  for  want  of  believing  more  than  she 
can  understand,  she  enters  insensibly  upon  a  way  of  haughtiness 
by  a  road  w^hich  ought  to  lead  to  humility.  And  then  this  same 
necessity  of  the  heart  which  impels  her  to  love  and  to  self-devote- 
ment,  exposes  her  to  the  danger  of  self-seeking,  even  in  self- 
forgetfuluess,  and  of  carrying  this  renunciation  to  extremes — 
hardly  willing  that  good  should  be  done  unless  she  can  have  a 
band  in  it  ;  jealous  of  the  man  she  would  help  and  please  with- 
out rivalry  ;- envious  of  the  woman  who  also  aspires  to  help  and 
please  ;  jealous,  envious — note  it  well — from  very  strength  of 
love,  but  a  love  transformed  into  passion  and  self-will  in  the 
dread  laboratory  of  the  tempter  I  Then  woman,  whom  we 
cheerfully  believe  superior  to  man  in  spiritual  things,  if  the 
essence  of  holiness  is  love,  and  the  essence  of  love  sacrifice, 
applies  to  evil  noble  instincts,  which  might  enable  her  to  excel 
in  goodness,  and  delivers  herself  up  to  sin  with  an  ahandon,  at 
the  same  time  energetic  and  heedless,  such  as  man  hardly  under- 
stands ;  carrying  to  a  greater  extent  than  he,  vain  glory,  ego- 
tism, avarice,  intemperance,  anger,  hatred,  cruelty,  love  of  the 
world,  and  forgetfuluess  of  God,  as  if  she  would  justify  the  old 
adage,  "the  greater  the  height  the  greater  the  fall."  The 
heart  of  woman  is  the  richest  treasure  upon  earth  ;  but  if  it  is 
not  GocUs  treasure,  it  becomes  the  treasure  of  the  devil ;  and  one 
might  be  tempted  sometimes  to  think  that  instead  of  having 
been  given  by  Gai  to  man  to  be  an  "helpmeet"  to  him,  the 
devil  formed  her,  saying,  it  is  not  good  that  man  should  be 
alone  ;  I  will  make  a  snare  for  him. 

Accuse  mc  not  of  slanderino;  woman.     I  no  more  calumniate 


THE   MISSION    OF   "WOMAN.  35 

her  now  than  I  flattered  her  a  moment  since.  I  spoke  then, 
and  speak  still,  according  to  the  Bible.  The  Scriptures,  which 
delineate  with  so  nmch  complacency  the  graces  of  woman  and 
her  humble  virtues,  present  her  faults  and  v»-andering,s  with  a 
vividness  unusual  to  them,  and  wdiich  they  seem  to  reserve  for 
this  subject  alone.  St.  Paul  knows  no  worse  scourge  for  the 
church  than  these  women  whom  he  describes  in  his  first  E])islle 
to  Timothy,  "  For  of  this  sort  are  they  which  creep  into  houses, 
and  lead  captive  silly  w^omen  laden  with  sins,  led  away  with 
divers  lusts,  ever  learning,  and  never  able  to  come  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth."  In  the  same  book  of  Proverbs,  which 
closes  with  a  sublime  description  of  the  virtuous  woman,  Solo- 
mon overwhelms  with  the  strokes  of  his  bitter  and  almost 
satirical  eloquence,  not  only  the  abandoned  woman,  whose  mur- 
derous work  no  one  has  described  with  a  more  holy  horror  (ye 
young,  ponder  his  maxims  !)  but  every  w^oman  unfaitliful  to  the 
mission  which  she  has  received  of  God.  The  foolish  woman, 
"who  plucketh  down  her  house  with  her  hands  ;"  the  brawling 
woman  whose  companionship  is  more  grievous  than  "  to  dwell 
in  the  corner  of  the  house-top,  or  in  a  desert  land  ;"  the  vicious 
woman,  "  who  is  as  rottenness  in  the  bones  of  her  husband  ;" 
the  odious  woman  who  is  "  one  of  the  four  things  which  disquiet 
the  earth  ;"  the  fair  w^oman  without  discretion,  whose  beauty  is 
as  "  a  jewel  in  a  swine's  snout ;"  the  contentious  woman,  "  this 
continual  dropping  in  a  very  rainy  day  ;  whosoever  hideth  her 
hideth  the  wind,  and  the  ointment  of  his  right  hand  which 
betrayeth  itself."  This  same  Solomon,  in  old  age,  gathering  up 
the  remembrances  of  his  whole  life,  confesses  that  he  had  vainly 
sought  a  woman  after  his  own  heart.  "  And  I  find  more  bitter 
than  death  the  woman  whose  heart  is  snares  and  nets,  and  her 
hands  as  bands  ;  whoso  pleaseth  God  shall  escape  from  her, 
but  the  sinner  shall  be  taken  by  her.  Behold  this  have  I  found, 
saith  the  preacher,  counting  one  by  one  to  find  out  the  account, 
which  yet  my  soul  seeketh,  but  I  find  not  ;  one  man  among  a  thou- 
sand have  I  found,  but  a  woman  among  all  those  have  I  not  found. '^ 


36  ADOLPIIE    MONOD. 

These  astonishing  declarations   the  Bible  confirms  and  com- 
pletes by  its  narratives,    which    are   so   many   lessons.     After 
explaining  by  Eve  the  entrance  of  sin  into  the  world,  it  explains 
to  us  by  Adah  and  Zillah,   Lamech  the  first  polygamist  and 
blasphemer;  by  the  daughters  of  men  ensnaring  the  sons  of  God, 
the  corruption  of  the  earth  and  the  deluge  ;  by  Hagar,  the  faith, 
the  charity,  and  peace  of  Abraham  for  a  time  disturbed  ;  by  the 
women  of  the  house  of  Laban,  the  faithfulness  of  Jacob  for  long 
time  concealed  ;  by  Judith  and  Bashemath,  the  profane  indiffer- 
ence of  Esau  ;  by  the  revenge  of  an  adulterous  wife,  the  injustice 
of  Potiphar  ;    by   the   daughters   of  Moab,   the   most  terrible 
plagues  of  Israel  in  the  desert,  and  by  the  daughters  of  Canaan, 
her  wickedness  and  idolatry  after  the  conquest  ;  by  Delilah,  the 
shameful   humiliation   of  Samson  ;    by   the    companion    of  the 
Levite  of  Ephraim,  a  whole  tribe  cut  oif ;  by  Bathsheba,  David 
ceasing  to  be  David  ;  by  strange  women,  Solomon  serving  other 
gods,  and  gathering  from  fall  after  fall  the  warnings  which  he 
would  at  a  later  period  give  to  the  world  ;  by  Jezebel,  wicked 
Ahab,  perjurer  and  murderer  ;  by  Athaliah,  the  kings  of  Judah 
following  in  the  way  of  the  kings  of  Israel ;  by  Herodias,  Herod 
beheading  John  the  Baptist  in  spite  of  himself ;  by  the  Jewish 
women,  Paul  and  Barnabas  persecuted  and  driven  from  Antioch  ; 
by  tlie  prophetic  women  of  the  Apocalypse,  the  corruption  of 
the  whole  earth.     Holy  liberty  of  the  Scriptures  which  declare 
equally  the  good  and  evil,  not  to  exalt  human  nature  nor  to 
humiliate  it,  but  to  give  glory  to  God  who  creates  the  good  and 
repairs  the  evil !     This  heart  of  woman,  so  ardent  but  so  passion- 
ate, so  tender  but  so  jealous,  so  delicate  but  so  susceptible,  so 
impulsive  but  so  hasty,  so  sensitive  but  so  irritable,  so  strong 
but  so  weak,  so  good  but  so  bad,  must  be  subdued  and  trans- 
formed, in  order  that  the  sap  of  life  which  inundates  it,  may 
return   to  its  legitimate  course,   diffusing  itself  wholly  in  the 
flowers  of  humility  and  the  fruits  of  charity  I 

Subdued  and  transformed  :  but  by  whom  ?     Ah  !  from  whom 
could  you  expect  this  grace  but  from  the  Son  of  God,  who,  not 


THE   MISSION   OF   WOMAN.  87 

content  with  haviug,  through  the  organ  of  his  inspired  serra-nts, 
restored  your  place  and  revealed  your  mission,  has  come  Himself 
to  show  you  the  ideal  of  it  in  His  life,  and  to  open  for  you  the 
way  to  it  by  His  cross  ?  Jesus  living,  perfect  type  of  the  gentle 
virtues  as  of  the  strong,  is  an  example  for  woman  as  for  man  ; 
and  Jesus  crucified,  sole  victim  who  expiates  sin,  is  the  only 
source  of  this  holy  love  which,  varying  merely  in  the  application, 
frees  from  sin  both  man  and  woman.  But,  between  man  and 
woman,  if  Jesus  could  sooner  find  access  on  the  one  side  than  on 
the  other,  would  it  not  be  on  the  part  of  woman  ?  He,  who  is 
love  ;  He,  who  "  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minis- 
ter ;"  He,  W'ho  satisfied  himself  only  in  privation  and  sacrifice  ; 
He,  in  fine,  who  took  upon  Him  our  nature  in  order  to  ascribe 
the  highest  charity  in  the  most  profound  humility  ? 

Am  I  mistaken,  my  sisters  (it  is  for  you  to  say),  am  I  mis- 
taken in  thinking  that  there  is  nothing  upon  earth  more  in  sym- 
pathy with  Jesus  Christ  than  the  heart  of  woman  ?  Superfluous 
question  1  Ah,  no,  I  am  not  deceived,  or  your  heart  would  deny 
all  its  instincts  !  The  Christian  faith,  so  truly  founded  in  the 
depths  of  humanity  that  it  is  not  w^onderful  only  because  common, 
adapts  itself  so  marvellously  to  all  the  needs  of  your  moral 
being,  that  you  cannot  be  truly  woman  except  upon  condition  of 
receiving  the  Gospel.  The  Christian  woman  is  not  only  the  best 
of  women,  but  at  the  same  time  most  truly  a  woman.  0,  you, 
then,  who  would  accomplish  the  humble  and  benevolent  mission 
of  your  sex — beneath  the  cross,  or  never ! 

Indeed,  my  dear  sisters,  the  first  aid  which  man  has  a  right  to 
expect  from  you  is  spiritual  aid.  It  is  little  to  be  indebted 
to  you  for  the  consolation  of  this  life  of  a  day,  if  he  owes  not  to 
you,  so  far  as  it  is  in  your  power,  the  possession  of  eternal  life. 
Not  only  that  true  charity,  which  subordinates  time  to  eternity, 
demands  it  of  you,  but  justice  itself,  as  we  have  shown  from  the 
Scriptures.  Your  sex  has  an  original  wrong  to  repair  towards 
ours,  and  a  spiritual  wrong.  That  with  which  we  reproach  you 
In  the  fall  where  we  have  follow^ed  you,  if  we  feel  not  bound  to 


38  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

restrict  our  reproaches  to  ourselves,  is  not  that  death  which  you 
liave  introduced  into  the  world,  neither  that  embittered  life 
v.'hich  your  sympathy  even  cannot  always  alleviate — it  is  a 
much  greater  evil,  the  only  real  and  absolute  evil — Sin,  which 
the  first  man  was  doubtless  inexcusable  in  committing,  but  which 
he  was  beguiled  to  commit  by  woman. 

Imagine  Eve  kneeling  with  Adam  beside  the  corpse  of  one  son 
murdered  by  the  other,  whom  the  divine  curse  drives  far  out 
upon  the  wild  and  sohtary  earth.  In  sight  of  the  visible  and 
present  fruits  of  sin,  and  with  the  thoughts  of  its  invisible 
and  future  results,  if  the  tender  look  of  Adam  said  not  to  Eve, 
Give  me  back  the  favor  of  my  God  !  give  me  back  my  peace 
with  myself  I  give  me  back  the  days  of  Eden,  and  my  sweet 
innocence,  and  my  holy  love  for  the  Saviour  and  for  thee  ! — • 
doubt  not  that  she  said  all  this  to  herself  !  To  her,  it  seemed 
very  Httle  to  heap  upon  him  the  consolations  of  earth,  if  she 
could  not  bring  to  him  those  of  Heaven  ;  and,  unable  to  repair 
the  wrong  she  had  done  him,  she  urges,  she  implores  him  to  turn 
his  weeping  eyes  to  the  Deliverer  promised  to  repair  all,  to 
reestablish  all,  and  to  open  to  the  fallen  but  reconciled  race,  a 
second  Eden  more  beautiful  than  that  to  which  the  sword  of  the 
cherubims  henceforth  forbade  entrance.  If  such  are  the  senti- 
ments of  Eve,  let  her  be  blessed,  although  she  be  Eve  !  With 
this  heart,  Eve  approximates  Mary  ;  and  in  the  woman  who 
ruined  the  world  by  sin,  I  discover  already  the  woman  who  will 
save  it  by  giving  to  it  the  Saviour. 

AVell,  now,  this  that  she  w^ould  do,  do  yourselves.  Though  no 
one  of  you  has  been  an  Eve  to  man,  yet  be  each  of  you  a  Mary 
to  him,  and  give  him  a  Saviour  I  This,  this  is  your  task  !  But, 
if  you  respond  not  to  it,  refusing  to  pass  your  life  in  the  exercise 
of  beneficence,  you  shall  fail  of  your  calling  ;  and,  after  having 
been  saluted  of  man  by  the  name  of  "good  woman,"  "  deaconess," 
or  "  sister  of  charity,"  you  shall  be  accounted  of  God,  "  as 
sounding  brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal  I"  But,  how  can  you  give 
the  Saviour  to  others,  if  you  do  not  possess  Him  in  your  own 


THE   MISSION   OF   WOJSlJiN.  39 

heart  ?  Women  who  hear  me,  yet  again — beneath  the  cross,  or 
never  ! 

We  say  nothing  of  those  holy  women  of  the  Old  Testament, 
who  died  in  faith  before  the  coming  of  the  Saviour,  "  not  having 
received  the  promises,  but  having  seen  them  afar  oJDf  and 
embraced  them  :"  neither  of  the  pious  Sarah  nor  of  tlie  modest 
Eebekah,  nor  of  the  tender  Rachel,  nor  of  the  heroic  Deborah, 
nor  of  the  humble  Ruth,  nor  of  the  sweet  wife  of  Elkanah,  nor 
of  the  prudent  Abigail,  nor  of  the  intrepid  Rizpah,  nor  of  the 
retiring  Shunamite.  We  confine  ourselves  to  the  women  of  the 
New  Testament. 

Beneath  the  cross,  Mary,  more  touching  now  than  at  the 
cradle,  offering  herself  without  a  murmur  to  the  sword  which 
pierces  her  soul,  associates  herself  with  the  sacrifice  of  her  son 
by  a  love  more  sublime  than  any  other  after  that  of  the  adorable 
Son,  and  presents  to  us  a  type  of  the  Christian  woman,  who 
knows  not  how  to  aid  and  to  love  but  in  keeping  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  "  Jesus  and  him  crucified."  Beneath  the  cross,  Anna  the 
prophetess,  type  of  the  faithful  woman,  gives  glory  first,  in  this 
same  temple,  where  "  she  served  God  day  and  night  with  fast- 
ings and  prayers,"  to  Him  whom  the  aged  Simon  had  confessed 
by  the  Spirit,  and  in  spite  of  her  fourscore  and  four  years,  renews 
the  energy  and  activity  of  youth  "  to  speak  of  Him  unto  all  them 
that  looked  for  redemption  in  Jerusalem."  Beneath  the  cross, 
Mary  of  Bethany,  type  of  the  contemplative  woman,  eager  for 
the  one  thing  needful  and  jealous  of  that  good  part,  sits  now  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus  and  feeds  in  silence  upon  the  word  of  life,  and 
at  another  time,  in  the  same  silence,  anoints  those  blessed  feet 
with  pure  spikenard  of  great  price,  and  wipes  them  with  the 
hairs  of  her  head,  as  if  she  could  not  find  a  token  sufiiciently 
tender  of  her  respect  and  love.  Beneath  the  cross,  Martha,  her 
sister,  type  of  the  active  woman,  sometimes  lavishes  her  unwea- 
ried attentions  upon  a  brother  whom  she  loved,  sometimes  busies 
herself  for  the  Saviour  whom  she  adored,  serving  him  in  every 
day  life,  invoking  His  aid  in  bitter  suffering,  and  blessing  Him 


40  ADOLPIIE   MONOD. 

ill  the  joy  of  deliverance.  Beneath  the  cross,  the  Oanaanitish 
mother,  type  of  the  persevering  woman,  surpassing  in  faith  and 
light  those  apostles  whom  she  wearies  with  her  cries,  triumphs 
over  the  silence,  refusal,  disdain  even,  by  which  the  Lord  him- 
self seems  to  contend  against  her  invincible  prayer,  and,  wrests 
from  him  at  last,  with  the  cure  so  much  desired,  the  most  bril- 
liant homage  that  any  child  of  Adam  ever  obtained  :  "  0  woman, 
great  is  thy  faith  I  be  it  unto  thee  as  thou  wilt.*'  Beneath  the 
cross,  Mary  Magdalene,  freed  from  seven  devils,  type  of  the 
grateful  woman,  surpassing  these  same  apostles  in  love  and 
courage,  after  them  at  Calvary  and  before  them  at  the  sepul- 
chre, is  also  chosen  from  among  them  all,  the  first  to  behold  her 
Lord  as  He  comes  forth  from  the  tomb,  and  charged  to  carry  the 
good  news  of  His  resurrection  to  those  who  would  announce  it  to 
the  world.  Beneath  the  cross,  Dorcas  "full  of  good  works  and 
alms  deeds,"  type  of  the  charitable  woman,  after  a  life  conse- 
crated to  the  relief  of  the  poor  and  of  the  widows  of  Joppa,  iu 
her  death  shows  what  she  was  to  the  church  by  the  void  she  left 
in  it,  and  by  the  tears  she  caused  to  flow  ;  and,  in  the  same  spi- 
rit, Phebe,  the  deaconess  of  Cenchrea,  "  a  succorer  of  many," 
and  in  particular  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  gives  birth  in  all 
succeeding  times  by  her  example  to  a  multitude  of  dea- 
conesses, clothed  or  not — it  little  signifies — with  this  oflBcial 
title  before  men.  Beneath  the  cross,  Priscilla,  type  of  the  ser- 
vant of  Jesus  Christ,  shares  with  Aquilla,  her  husband,  many  of 
those  perils  incurred  to  preserve  to  the  church  of  the  Gentiles 
their  great  missionary,  or  engages  in  those  conversations  by 
which  the  faith  of  the  eloquent  ApoUos  was  enhghtened  and 
strengthened  ;  and,  in  the  same  spirit,  Lydia  hazards  her  life  by 
opening  her  house  to  the  apostles,  which,  transformed  at  once 
into  a  church,  becomes  the  centre  of  evangelical  charity  in  Phi- 
lippi  and  Macedonia. 

What  more  shall  I  say  ?  Shall  I  speak  of  Julia,  and  Lois, 
and  Enodias,  and  Sintyche,  and  Mary,  and  Persis,  and  Salome, 
and  Tryphena,  and  Tryphosa,  and  of  the  many  women  of  the 


THE  MISSION   OF  WOMAN.  41 

Gospel,  and  of  so  many  others  who  have  followed  in  their  steps, 
the  Perpetuas,  the  Monicas,  the  Mary  Calarays,  and  the  Eliza- 
beth Frys  ?  Beneath  the  cross,  with  the  Bible  in  hand — this 
Bible  to  which  no  human  creature  owes  more  than  she,  both  in 
respect  to  the  world  and  to  Christ — beneath  the  cross — it  is  there 
that  I  love  to  see  woman  I  Kestored  to  God,  to  man,  to  herself, 
so  worthy  in  her  submission,  so  noble  in  her  humility,  so  strong 
in  her  gentleness,  gathering  all  the  gifts  she  has  received  to  con- 
secrate them  to  the  service  of  humanity  with  an  ardor  which  we 
hardly  know  how  to  exhibit  except  in  passion,  she  obliges  us  to 
confess  that  she  who  effaced  our  primitive  holiness,  is  also  she 
who  now  offers  of  it  on  this  apostate  earth,  the  brightest  image. 

0  you  who  so  well  read  our  hearts,  bear  with  me,  because  for 
a  moment  I  have  read  yours.  I  have  said  enough,  perhaps  too 
much.  You  accept  this  mission  at  the  hand  of  Jesus;  you  burn 
to  fulfill  it  beneath  the  cross  of  Jesus.  Come  then,  that  passing 
from  the  principle  to  the  application,  I  may  show  you  how  it  can 
be  accomplished  in  every  condition  ;  and  how  woman  can  always 
— daughter,  wife,  or  mother — be  unto  man  an  "helpmeet." 
You  have  considered  the  mission  of  woman,  contemplate  her 
life  ;  this  will  be  the  subject  of  a  second  discourse. 

1  ought  to  close  here  to-day;  but  I  am  unwilling  to  leave  this 
place  without  inquiring  of  the  men  who  listen  to  me,  how  they 
regard  the  mission  of  woman,  as  I  have  exhibited  it.  Many, 
perhaps,  have  hardly  been  able  to  suppress  a  smile  of  incredu- 
lity, at  hearing  me  assign  to  woman  a  sphere  of  action  so 
humble  and  at  the  same  time  so  elevated,  since  it  calls  her  to 
apply,  as  one  has  said,  ''  so  great  principles  to  so  small  duties." 
This  smile  may  be  explained  by  two  opposite  reasons  :  one 
places  woman  above  the  task  to  which  I  invite  her,  the  other 
below  it. 

There  are  epochs  and  nations  before  which  I  might  feel  ob- 
liged to  oppose  the  first  of  these  impressions,  and  to  defend 
against  man  the  dignity  of  woman.  This  duty  would  be  neces- 
sary, not  only  with  the  Pagans,  both  ancient  and  modern,  but 


42  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

with  many  au  elevated  spirit,  with  many  an  eminent  moralist 
nourished  in  the  bosom  of  Christianity.  To  cite  but  one 
example,  Kant,  whom  no  contemporaneous  philosopher  has  sur- 
passed in  the  depth  and  energy  of  the  moral  sense,  Kant,  in  his 
little  book  on  "  The  Sentiment  of  the  Beautiful,"  reserves  to 
man  the  nolle  virtues,  and  leaves  to  woman  only  the  beautiful 
virtues  :  by  which  he  understands  an  agreeable,  spontaneous 
virtue,  exerted  without  effort.  "  Speak  not  to  woman,  says  he, 
of  duty,  of  obligation.  Expect  not  from  her  sacrifices,  nor 
generous  victories  over  herself.  You  propose,  for  example,  to 
give  up  part  of  your  fortune  to  save  a  friend.  Do  not  inform 
your  wife  of  your  purpose.  Why  check  her  lively  gossip,  and 
burden  her  bosom  with  a  secret  too  weighty  for  it  ?"  What 
sayest  thou  to  this.  Christian  woman  ?  One  is  ready  to  ask 
himself  if  the  cautions  of  Kant  with  regard  to  woman,  are 
much  less  humiliating  to  her  than  the  abjectness  in  which 
paganism  holds  her  ;  and  to  combat  language  so  stern  and  so 
haughty,  it  is  sufficient  to  recall  to  man  in  default  of  what  he 
owes  to  woman,  what  he  owes  to  himself  from  whom  she  has 
been  taken,  and  to  God  who  has  taken  her  from  him. 

Yet,  in  the  full  light  of  Christianity,  in  France,  and  in  the 
ideas  of  the  day,  the  danger  of  excess  is  ou  the  other  side.  No 
more  is  claimed  for  woman  against  my  doctrine,  than  has  beeu 
done  these  sixty  years  past ;  but  it  is  claimed,  not  in  the  name 
of  a  worn-out  gallantry,  but  in  the  name  of  systems  and  the 
prejudices  of  the  day.  One  complains  that  I  abase  and  sacrifice 
her,  in  assigning  her  a  place  so  humble,  instead  of  putting  her  on 
a  level  with  man,  and  a  path  so  self-denying,  instead  of  exhort- 
ing her  to  live  for  herself.  No,  no  :  I  promote,  on  the  contrary, 
her  true  glory  and  best  interests,  because  I  oblige  her  to  con- 
form to  the  law  of  her  creation,  the  first  condition  of  all  order 
and  all  repose  for  the  creature.  I  no  more  degrade  and  sacri- 
fice woman,  in  inviting  her  to  live  for  charity  in  humility 
towards  man,  whose  glory  she  is,  than  I  abase  and  sacrifice 
man,  who  is  the  glory  of  God,  in  inviting  him  to  "  glorify  God 


THE   MISSION    OF   WOMAN.  43 

in  his  body  aud  spirit  wliicli  are  his  ;"  no  more  than  I  abase  nnd 
sacrifice  the  planet,  in  inviting  it  to  continue  in  the  modest  path 
of  its  orbit,  sole  guaranty  of  its  safety  and  harmony. 

There  is  one  who  abases  and  sacrifices  woman  :  it  is  this  same 
world,  sometimes  frivolous,  sometimes  bold,  which  treacherously 
takes  up  her  defence  against  me.  You  abase  and  sacrifice  her 
whenever  you  entice  her,  to  satisfy  your  egotism  and  glorify  your 
theories,  from  the  path  which  God  has  marked  out  for  her,  and 
in  which  we  would  keep  her.  You  have  abased  and  sacrificed 
her  of  late,  in  placing  her  upon  the  pedestal  and  man  at  her  feet, 
in  your  romances,  in  your  saloons,  in  your  plays,  because  instead 
of  the  mission  to  aid  and  glorify  man,  you  have  substituted  that 
of  weakening  and  effeminating  him.  You  abase  and  sacrifice 
her  to-day,  in  seeking  for  another  emancipation  than  that  which 
she  has  received  of  the  Gospel,  in  claiming  for  her  the  rights  of 
man  ;  since  for  the  mission  which  she  can  and  ought  to  fulfill,  you 
substitute  one  in  which  she  cannot  succeed,  and  to  which  she 
ought  not  to  pretend.  What  idea  then  have  you  of  woman,  if 
you  believe  her  willing  to  exchange  the  humble  glory  of  accom- 
plishing the  mission  which  belongs  to  her,  for  the  mortifying 
vanity  of  failing  in  that  of  another — satisfied  with  being  an 
incomplete  man,  while  she  might  be  a  complete  woman  ;  and 
of  losing  her  natural  and  legitimate  influence  in  the  sterile  pur- 
suits of  an  influence  factitious  and  usurped  ?  Nothing  more 
remains  to  her  than  to  regret  the  nature  which  God  has  given 
her,  and  to  indulge  this  regret  by  begging  without  shame  from 
our  sex  the  name,  the  dress,  and  the  gait  of  man.  Doubt  it  not, 
I  have  the  heart  of  woman  on  my  side  ;  and  if  any  one  has 
smiled  at  hearing  me  exhibit  her  mission  according  to  God,  it  is 
not  she,  I  answer  for  her.  What  woman  worthy  of  her  name, 
has  ever  smiled  when  one  has  appealed  to  her  spirit  of  renunci- 
ation and  of  sacrifice  ?  It  is  bread  for  her  hunger,  it  is  water 
for  her  thirst.  What  do  I  say  ?  the  woman  worthy  of  her 
name  !  Worthy  or  unworthy,  every  woman  starts  at  these 
words  of  sympathy  ;  the  heart  of  the  worthy  leaps  for  joy,  and 


44  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

the  unworthy  is  moved  with  bitterness.  You  even,  who  turn 
away  from  the  way  which  I  trace  for  you,  confess  it ;  you  think 
me  right  in  the  depths  of  your  soul  ;  and  in  spite  of  all  your 
words,  you  respect  her  while  you  murmur  at  her,  if  she  follows 
my  commands  rather  than  yours,  and  you  scorn  her  while  flatter- 
ing her,  if  she  follows  yours  rather  than  mine. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  greater  part  of  those  who  hear  me,  I 
say  it  boldly,  not  content  with  admitting  the  principles  which  I 
have  attempted  to  develop,  appreciate  and  admire  them.  Let 
them  learn  then  from  this  example  to  what  a  degree  Scripture  is 
true.  For  indeed,  what  have  I  done  but  interrogate  it  before 
you  ?  I  confess,  when  I  began  to  meditate  upon  the  mission  of 
woman,  I  was  far  from  having  upon  this  subject,  so  little  studied, 
the  precise  and  strong  views  which  I  entertain  to-day.  I  had 
resolved  to  open  the  Bible,  to  listen  to  it,  and  to  allow  myself  to 
be  guided  by  it ;  and  I  have  been  confounded  at  finding  there, 
instead  of  some  thoughts  scattered  throughout  forty  books  and 
nineteen  centuries,  an  entire  doctrine,  developing  itself  from 
book  to  book  and  from  age  to  age,  passing  from  the  hand  of 
prophet  to  apostle,  as  a  work  planned  by  one  workman  and 
transmitted  by  him  to  another  to  complete  ;  a  doctrine,  whose 
mission,  plenitude,  clearness,  simplicity,  brilliant  in  the  midst  of 
an  ignorance  profound  and  universal,  excited  in  me  a  surprise 
which  grew  with  meditation.  For  all  this  revealed  itself  to  me 
by  degrees  ;  the  place  assigned  to  woman  in  Scripture,  limited  at 
the  first  glance,  continually  enlarged  itself  before  me.  We  must 
seek  for  woman  in  Scripture  ;  but  once  found,  she  appears  there 
clothed  with  a  ministry  as  beneficent  as  glorious.  Her  posi- 
tion there  instructed  me  :  I  learned  that  such  as  she  is  in  this 
book,  she  ought  to  be  in  life,  great,  but  hidden.  I  say  it 
boldly  :  of  all  religions  and  all  systems,  Scripture  alone  has 
known  and  understood  woman.  Alone,  between  the  two  oppo- 
site tendencies  of  the  Southern  and  Germanic  races,  of  antiquity 
and  the  middle  ages,  the  one  making  her  the  slave  of  man, 
the  other  the  arbiter  of  his  destinies,  it  has  spared  her  at  the 


THE   MISSION   OF   WOMAN.  45 

same  time,  ''  this  excess  of  honor  and  this  indignity."  Alone 
in  fine,  by  one  of  those  combinations  of  truth  in  which  the 
world  only  sees  strange  contradictions,  it  has  at  once  restored  to 
her  her  place  and  held  her  in  silence,  giving  to  her  a  work  as 
much  more  noble  as  it  is  more  humble,  as  much  more  loving  as 
it  is  self-sacrificing. 

Understand  then,  0  man,  the  treasure  which  you  possess  in 
Scripture,  and  question  it  that  you  may  gather  from  it  the  light 
which  it  spreads  upon  even  those  subjects  which  it  does  not  seem 
to  have  intended  to  illuminate.  Interroo-ate  it,  men  of  thou2:ht : 
know  if  it  does  not  retain  concealed  within  its  fertile  recesses, 
waiting  until  your  haughty  pride  shall  abase  itself  to  demand 
them  of  it,  new  revelations  upon  the  plans  of  the  Creator  and 
the  destinies  of  the  creature,  and  the  final  solution  of  some  of 
those  problems  which  are  the  eternal  despair  of  philosophy. 
Interrogate  it,  men  of  science  ;  know  if  our  old  earth,  which  has 
been  obliged  to  open  its  bosom  most  profoundly  to  the  most  con- 
scientious investigations,  to  show  itself  in  perfect  agreement  with 
this  biblical  cosmogony  to  which  one  had  opposed  it  with  so 
much  assurance,  has  not  still  some  other  secret  to  say  to  the 
genius  of  a  Cuvier  in  favor  of  the  inspiration  of  a  Moses.  Inter- 
rogate it,  men  of  letters  ;  know  if  these  sublime  thoughts  of 
poetry,  the  paintings  so  natural,  the  narrations  so  animated, 
the  demonstrations  so  simple  and  so  strong,  that  our  greatest 
writers  glory  in  imitating,  without  flattering  themselves  of  ever 
equalling  them,  have  not  some  salutary,  some  powerful  regenera- 
tion in  reserve  for  the  ready,  but  premature,  greedy,  impure,  still- 
born literature  of  our  day.  Interrogate  it  yourselves,  men  of 
state  ;  know  if  this  divine  constitution  which  has  served  as  a 
model  to  modern  legislation  and  created  European  civilization, 
holds  not  hidden  within  its  unopened  folds  some  yet  unknown 
perfection  for  our  proud  age,  and  if  it  could  not  teach,  for  ex- 
ample, our  magistracy,  renowned  in  all  the  world,  that  the  least 
that  it  can  do  for  this  Gospel  which  has  founded  all  freedom,  is 
to  allow  it  to  be  itself  free. 


46  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

But,  if  Scripture  has  so  many  lessons  upon  subjects  whicli 
hardly  seem  to  occupy  it,  what  will  it  not  have  to  say  upon 
that  subject  which  is  to  it,  and  which  ought  to  be  also  to 
each  of  us,  the  one  thing  needful  ?  Oh  I  I  beg  you,  inter- 
rogate it  upon  salvation.  Interrogate  it  concerning  sin  and 
pardon,  life  and  death,  good  and  evil,  heaven  and  hell.  Woe  to 
you,  if  your  ears  are  too  sensitive  to  hear  this  language  !  Yes, 
interrogate  it  upon  heaven  and  hell ;  and  you  will  find  the  only 
place  where  woman  can  accomplish  her  mission,  is  also  the  only 
one  where  you  can  yourselves  find  grace,  peace  and  life.  Beneath 
the  cross,  beneath  the  cross,  all  together,  one  in  mind,  one  in  heart! 
Beneath  the  cross  to  live,  beneath  the  cross  to  die,  beneath  the 
cross  to  meet  the  judgment  of  the  great  day — happy  in  then 
recognizing  in  him  who  is  our  judge,  him  who  has  been  our 
Saviour  1 


DISCOURSE   II. 

THE     LIFE     OP     WOMAN. 

•'And  the  Lord  God  said :  It  is  not  good  that  the  man  should  be  alone:  I  will  mako 
him  a  helpmeet  for  him."— Genesis  ii.  13. 

My  dear  Sisters  : 

My  first  discourse  left  you,  I  hope,  convinced  that  your 
mission,  according  to  the  Bible,  as  well  as  according  to  nature, 
is  one  of  charity  in  humility  towards  man  ;  and  resolved  to 
accomphsh  this  mission  in  Jesus  Christ  who  alone  can  prepare 
you  for  it.  Are  we  then  agreed  as  to  principles  ?  Let  us  to-day 
pass  to  the  application.  Let  us  trace  the  mission  of  woman,  in 
the  life  of  woman  :  that  is  to  say,  let  us  see  how  this  common 
mission  can  be  realized  by  each  of  you  (the  Christian  faith  being 
taken  for  granted),  according  to  the  particular  condition  assigned 
of  God. 

I  say,  according  to  the  condition  in  which  God  has  placed 
you,  and  I  insist  upon  this  point  to  prevent  a  dangerous  illusion. 
On  hearing  me  exhibit  the  duties  of  woman  in  a  position  different 
from  yours,  you  are  tempted,  perhaps,  to  whisper  :  Ah !  if  I  were 
thus  placed,  with  what  devotion  would  I  give  myself  to  the 
work  of  loving  and  helping !  Believe  me,  my  sister,  you  may 
not  only  accomplish,  with  self-devotion,  your  mission  as  a  woman 
in  your  present  position,  but  you  will  acknowledge  it  to  be  the 
situation  of  all  others,  in  which  you  can  best  accomplish  it. 
Else  why  has  God  assigned  it — He,  ''  who  makes  all  things  work 

47 


48  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

together  for  the  good  of  those  that  love  Him  ?"  You  answer 
sadlj,  perhaps,  that  it  is  less  God  who  has  assigned  you  your 
place  than  your  own  will,  and  a  will  badly  controlled.  It 
may  be,  I  admit  (although  I  distrust  the  heart  of  woman  in 
accusing  her  conscience) ;  that  you  have  come  where  you  are,  by  a 
way  which  you  cannot  recall  without  regret  or  without  repent- 
ance. Still,  your  place,  as  it  is  fixed  to-day,  is  the  one  in 
which  God  wishes  you  to-day  to  be  ;  and  the  best  one  possible 
for  you,  if  you  accept  it  at  His  hand,  in  a  spirit  of  faith  and  sub- 
mission. With  Jesus  Christ  there  is  no  more  a  condition  without 
resources,  than  a  soul  without  hope.  Such  is  the  power  of  the 
i  Gospel,  that  it  reacts  upon  the  whole  course  of  life,  and  con- 
strains a  regretted  past  to  take  its  place  among  those  ''all 
things,"  that  work  together  for  the  good  of  them  who  love  God. 
It  is  not  position,  but  disposition,  that  is  of  importance  with 
God,  and  the  surest  mark  of  a  well  regulated  mind,  is  to  accept 
our  present  position,  as  chosen  by  God,  to  promote  our  spiritual 
development.  I  take,  therefore,  3^our  moral  physiognomy  just 
as  it  is,  as  the  daguerreotype  w-ould  take  your  natural  physiog- 
nomy. The  man  to  whom  you  ought  to  be  an  "helpmeet"  is  a 
husband,  a  son,  a  father,  or  a  man,  simply  as  man,  apart  from 
any  individual  relation.  Your  attitude  towards  him  may  either 
be  that  of  equality,  of  superiority,  of  inferiority,  or  of  independ- 
ence ;  it  matters  little  to  the  end  which  I  propose.  The  only 
point  of  importance  is,  that  you  possess  a  true  woman's  heart ; 
I  would  say  a  heart  desirous  of  life  not  for  yourself  but  for 
others  ;  first,  unquestionably  for  the  Lord,  according  to  the 
general  mission  you  share  with  us,  and  next  for  man,  agreeably 
to  the  special  mission  which  occupies  us,  in  these  discourses. 

Accordingly,  the  Scripture,  content  with  exhibiting  the  works 
of  holy  women,  whom  it  offers  as  models  to  their  sex,  does  not 
trouble  itself  to  explain  their  social  or  domestic  condition,  oblig- 
ing us  often  to  surmise  it  for  ourselves.  That  Eunice  was  both 
wife  and  mother,  that  she  might  give  to  the  Apostle  of  the  Gen- 
tiles the  most  useful  of  his  co-laborers  ;  that  Priscilla,  as  we 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  49 

may  suppose,  was  wife  but  not  mother,  that  she  might  follow 
her  husband  from  place  to  place,  and  assist  him  in  the  service 
of  the  Gospel ;  that  Phoebe  might  not  have  been  either  wife  or 
mother,  so  that  she  might  remain  free  to  carry  from  church  to 
church  her  devotion,  and  her  activity  ;  that  concerning  Dorcas 
the  same  thing  may  have  been  true, — this,  with  Scripture,  was  of 
secondary  moment ;  it  is  suflficient  that  iu  them  all  there  was  a 
faithful  heart.  The  same  heart  which  renciercd  a  Dorcas  faith- 
ful in  the  position  of  Dorcas,  would  have  made  her  equally 
faithful  in  the  position  of  Pha3be,-  of  Priscilla,  or  of  Eunice  ;  and 
the  same  heart  which  w^ould  render  you  unfaithful  to  your  mis- 
sion in  your  present  position,  would  make  you  equally  unfaithful 
in  any  other.  But  "  although  I  thus  speak,  I  am  persuaded 
better  things  of  you,"  my  beloved  sisters  ;  and  it  is  in  this  firm 
confidence  that  I  would  inquire  with  you,  how  you  can  be  for 
man,  each  in  her  place,  an  ''helpmeet." 

I  penetrate  at  once  to  the  heart  of  my  subject,  and  take 
woman  in  her  normal  position,  the  one  in  which  she  was  found- 
as  she  came  forth  from  the  hands  of  God,  that  for  which  she 
was  formed,  that  in  which  she  can  best  accomplish  her  peculia. 
work,  by  a  loving  devotion  in  an  humble  equality — marriage. 
Married  woman,  that  which  woman  is  called  to  be  for  man,  you 
are  called  to  be  for  one  man.  God  said,  speaking  of  your  hus- 
band :  "  It  is  not  good  that  this  man  should  be  alone  ;  I  wiF 
make  an  helpmeet  for  him  :"  and  it  is  you  whom  lie  has  given 
to  him.  If  He  did  not  guide  you  by  His  own  hand  to  him,  as 
Eve  to  Adam,  He  has  done  still  better  ;  He  has  pronounced 
upon  your  union  by  the  voice  of  His  servants,  a  word  of  blessing, 
which  gives  it  a  holy  character — what  do  I  say  ? — which  makes 
of  it  a  visible  emblem  of  the  invisible  union  of  the  Lord  with 
His  Church.  Scripture  alone  would  dare  risk  such  a  comparisou, 
and  only  a  Christian  heart  can  comprehend  it.  But  to  what  a 
height  it  elevates  marriage  with  him  who  understands  it !  And 
with  what  authority  it  clothes  this  double  precept,  which  sums 
up  so  tenderly  the  obligations  of  the  husband  ;  "  Husbands,  love 

3 


50  ADOLPHE   MOXOD. 

your  wives,  as  Christ  also  loved  tlie  Clmrcli :"  and  so  Immbly  those 
of  women;  "Therefore,  as  the  Church  is  sulycct  unto  Christ, 
so  let  the  wives  be  to  their  owu  husbands  in  everything." 

Perhaps,  alas  I  this  word  of  blessing  scarcely  touched  your 
heart  when  it  was  pronounced,  the  Lord  having  been  the  last 
consulted  in  the  gift  of  your  hand.  But  to-day,  it  regains  its 
divine  virtue,  reanimated  and  renewed,  as  it  were,  by  your  faith, 
according  to  the  power  that  we  have  recognized  in  the  Gospel, 
to  react  even  upon  the  past  :  and,  provided  you  carry  to-day 
into  your  married  life  the  heart  of  a  Christian  woman,  you  may 
believe  yourself  trnly  chosen  of  God  for  your  husband,  and  he 
for  you,  as  was  Eve  for  Adam,  and  Adam  for  Eve.  As  for  him, 
I  know  not  with  what  fidelity  he  fulfills  his  part  of  the  obliga- 
tion ;  let  him  fulfill  it  or  not,  fulfill  yours  ;  for  to  God  we  must 
all  give  account,  not  to  man,  and  "  each  shall  bear  his  own  bur- 
den." Your  mission,  then,  is  no  other  than  the  general  mission 
of  woman,  applied,  and  as  it  were  concentrated,  in  your  inter- 
course witli  your  husband,  and,  if  I  dare  so  speak,  carried  to  its 
highest  perfection,  by  the  closest  and  most  individual  of  all  re- 
lations. This  position  of  humility,  and  this  vocation  of  charity, 
which  comprise  the  mission  of  woman,  concentrate,  gather 
up,  upon  one  object :  then  shall  you  be  what  the  married  woman 
ought  to  be  to  her  husband,  a  "  helpmeet." 

Freely  and  cheerfully  assume  towards  your  husband  a 
humble,  dependent,  and  submissive  position.  Is  there  here  a 
spirit  giddy  enough  to  find  in  these  words,  food  for  the  inex- 
haustible raillery  with  which  this  subject  inspires  the  world  ? 
Let  it  be  understood,  that  T  speak  seriously  for  serious  women, 
holily  for  holy  women,  and  that  I  do  not  consider  myself  .exempt 
from  the  duty  of  enforcing  upon  them  the  pure  doctrine  of  God, 
because  of  puerile  fear  of  exposing  them  to  the  ridicule  of  those 
who  would  seek  in  the  church  the  curtains  of  the  theatre,  and 
who  would  judge  this  word,  which  must  judge  them  at  the 
last  day.  Yes,  my  sisters,  whatever  the  sentiment  or  usages 
of  society  may  be  upon  this  subject,  openly  and  frankly  assumo 


THE  LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  51 

towards  your  husbands  a  humble,  dependent,  sub:nissive  posi- 
tion. It  is  not  I  who  demand  it  of  you,  it  h  God  who  com- 
mands you.  "  Wives,"  writes  Paul  to  the  Ephesians,  "  submit 
yourselves  unto  your  own  husbands  as  unto  the  Lord  ;"  "  for  the 
husband  is  the  -Jiead  of  the  wife,  even  as  Christ  is  the  head  of 
the  chuFch."  That  which  he  had  said  of  man  in  relation  to 
woman,  speaking  to  the  Corinthians,  "  The  man  is  the  head  of 
the  woman,"  he  says  here  of  the  husband  in  relation  to  his 
wife  :  it  is  the  same  doctrine,  but  this  doctrine  specially  applied, 
"  Therefore  as  the  church  is  subject  unto  Christ,  so  let  the  wife 
see  that  she  reverence  her  husband."  St.  Paul  not  only  con- 
siders this  submission  one  of  the  obligations  of  the  married 
woman,  it  is  the  chief  obligation,  includhig  every  other.  Some- 
times he  names  it  alone,  as  here  :  sometimes  he  gives  it  the  first 
place,  and  subordinates  to  it  all  the  rest.  St.  Peter  expresses 
the  same  thing  :  ''  Likewise  ye  wives,  be  in  subjection  to  your 
own  husbands,  that,  if  any  obey  not  the  word,  they  also  may, 
without  the  word,  be  won  by  the  conversation  of  their  wives ; 
while  they  behold  your  chaste  conversation  coupled  v/ith  fear." 
"  Whose  adorning  let  it  not  be  that  outward  adorning  of  plait- 
ing the  hair,  and  of  wearing  of  gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  ap- 
parel. But  let  it  be  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  in  that  which 
is  not  corruptible,  even  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit, 
which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price.  For  after  this 
manner  in  the  old  time,  the  holy  women  also,  who  trusted  in 
God  adorned  themselves,  being  in  subjection  unto  their  hus- 
bands ;  even  as  Sara  obeyed  Abraham,  calling  him  Lord  :  whose 
daughters  ye  are,  as  long  as  ye  do  well,  and  are  not  afraid  with 
any  amazement." 

Doubt  it  not,  the  harmony  and  felicity  of  domestic  life  de- 
pend upon  each  one's  holding  this  position.  More  than  one 
household  which  promised  well,  has  been  disturbed  by  confound- 
ing duties  which  Scripture  has  carefully  distinguished.  We  can- 
not with  impunity  depart  from  the  divine  arrangement.  The 
trouble  which  others  give  themselves  to  usurp  the  first  rank, 


52  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

give  yourself  to  avoid  this  usurpation,  under  whatever  skillful 
precautions,  under  ^Yllatever  tender  appearances  it  may  disguise 
itself.  Let  your  husband  be,  next  to  God,  the  centre  of  your 
existence  ;  with  your  own  name,  sweetly  lose  in  him  your  own 
glory,  and  your  own  will.  Lose  sight  of  yourself,  abide  in 
silence,  avoid  even  the  appearance  of  arrogance  or  arbiUariness. 
Let  it  be  your  ambition  to  promote  his  praise,  or  rather  to  be 
yourself  his  praise,  not  by  an  outward  eclat  which  depends  not 
upon  you  either  to  give  or  to  withhold,  but  by  a  conversation  so 
irreproachable  that  all  husbands  may  propose  you  for  an  example 
to  their  wives.  Realize,  in  short,  in  its  full  meaning,  this  beau- 
tiful saying  of  Solomon,  ''  A  virtuous  woman  is  a  crown  to  her. 
husband." 

Modesty  is  not  inaction.  The  Scriptures  give  you  a  place  so 
humble,  only  that  it  may  confide  to  you  a  work  all  the  more 
beneficent.  This  special  humility  which  it  recommends  to  you 
in  relation  to  your  husband,  is  a  pledge  of  the  special  charity 
with  which  you  will  devote  yourself  to  his  happiness.  This 
home  in  which  the  Apostle  would  see  you  quietly  remaining,  he 
wishes  you  to  make  by  your  affection,  by  your  presence,  by  your 
good  government,  by  the  care  you  bestow  upon  your  children, 
a  sanctuary  of  order,  peace,  and  happiness,  in  which  your  hus- 
band may  find,  after  the  cares  of  business,  his  sweetest  repose 
and  favorite  recreation.  Let  him  so  truly  find  it  such,  that  he 
will  not  think  of  seeking  elsewhere  than  with  you,  the  satisfac- 
tion which  he  needs  to  dissipate  his  fatigues,  to  alleviate  his 
pain,  to  calm  his  agitated  spirits  and  to  restore  their  elasticity. 
Let  him  find  there,  for  I  refuse  you  no  way  of  being  useful,  let 
him  find  there,  hidden  in  the  bosom  of  home,  wise  counsels,  salu- 
tary inspirations,  which  will  follow  him  silently  into  public  life, 
and  which  contribute  their  part  in  controlling  the  words  of  his 
lips,  and  the  deeds  of  his  hands,  by  motives  superior  to  the 
passions  and  impulses  of  men  at  large.  Let  him  find  there,  in 
short,  all  that  can  make  him  happy  within,  together  with  all 
that  can  render  him  useful  without,  so  that,  as  he  crosses  tho 


THE    LIFE    OF    WOMAX.  53 

threshold  of  his  door,  to  engage  again  in  his  noble  labors,  he 
shall  utter  to  himself  with  gratitude  towards  you,  and  to  God, 
who  gave  you  to  him,  the  touching  words  of  Solomon,  "  Houses 
and  riches  are  the  inheritance  of  fathers,  and  a  prudent  wife  is 
from  the  Lord."  Happy  if  you  can  hear  those  words  from  his 
lips  I  But  no,  that  is  not  necessary  :  your  conscience  will  tell 
you  what  he  thinks.  It  will  say  to  you,  that  when  with  grati- 
tude he  recalls  to  his  remembrance  all  the  good  things  he  has 
received  from  God — fortune,  health,  family — the  first  and  the 
last  of  his  earthly  treasures,  that  which  he  fears  most  to  lose, 

is  YOU. 

Yet,  let  not  your  devotion  be  idolatry.  Love  and  be  loved  in 
God.  The  most  intimate  of  all  relations  ought  to  be  also  the 
most  holy.  The  Gospel  would  never  have  seen  in  marriage 
a  type  of  Christ  and  the  church,  if  it  had  not  anticipated  there  a 
sanctifying  influence,  exerted  by  each  of  the  pair  upon  the  other. 
For  what  knowest  thou,  0  wife  !  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy 
husband  ?  These  serious  w^ords  denote  the  grand  obligation  of 
marriage;  that  which  the  Apostle  calls,  for  reasons  given  in  my 
first  discourse,  the  special  obligation  of  woman.  This  loving, 
this  penetrating,  I  had  almost  said  irresistible  influence,  which 
God  has  placed  in  your  hands,  woe  to  you,  if  you  know  how  to 
turn  it  to  everything  but  its  true  use,  the  glory  of  God,  and  the 
salvation  of  your  husband  !  Are  you  happy  in  being  united  to 
a  true  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  Hardly  need  I  urge  you,  so 
sweet  is  the  duty,  to  be  to  him  a  constant  edification,  never 
a  snare.  A  faithful  wife,  sustaining  the  heart  and  strengthening 
the  hands  of  a  faithful  husband  for  the  conflicts  of  life,  is  a 
"  helpmeet  "  in  all  her  glory. 

But  I  will  suppose  your  husband,  if  not  a  stranger  to  the 
faith,  at  least  floating  between  it  and  the  unbelief  of  the  natu- 
ral heart — disturbed  by  the  cares  of  business,  carried  away  by  the 
temptations  of  public  life,  and  influenced  by  those  of  a  skeptical 
and  fault-finding  spirit.  To  preserve  him  from  so  many  snares, 
to  gain  him  forever  to  the  faith,  he  needs,  perhaps,  only  to  see 


54  ADOLPnE   MONOD. 

it  ill  action  so  near  him,  that  he  cannot  overlook  the  reahty  of 
the  facts,  nor  suspect  the  sincerity  of  the  feeling.  Do  you  not 
recognize  this  as  your  special  Tocation  ?  Who  but  you  will  fur- 
nish him  with  this  "  demonstration  of  the  spirit  and  of  power/' 
practical,  winning,  incontestable,  which  alone  can  make  day 
within  his  soul  ?  It  is  jirecisely  for  this  kind  of  persuasion  that 
you  have  been  prepared  by  God,  and  no  one  else  can  supply 
your  place. 

Woman  has  not  a  mission  as  man,  to  preach  the  Saviour,  and 
to  reveal  Him  :  she  does  even  more  ;  she  gives  birth  to  Him  by 
virtue  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  She  gives  Him,  all  living,  all  com- 
plete. Instead  of  declaring  Him  by  thought  and  word,  she 
communicates  Him  by  act,  by  sentiment,  and,  if  we  may  so 
speak,  by  inspiration.  She  is  not  to  preach  the  Gospel  to 
her  husband,  but  to  insinuate  it  into  him  in  her  actions  and  her 
slightest  words,  in  the  pure  and  limpid  depths  of  her  being,  in 
all  the  course  of  domestic  life,  making  it  all  pervading,  without 
seeming  to  place  it  anywhere.  If  we  rely  upon  you  for  this  pre- 
cious influence,  Christian  woman,  if  we  see  in  you  the  most  effi- 
cient auxiliaries  to  our  preaching,  we  only  follow  the  example  of  . 
St.  Peter,  whose  thought  I  do  but  this  moment  develop.  He 
recommends,  as  we  have  seen,  "that  wives  be  submissive  to  their 
own  husbands,"  but  why  ?  "  that  if  any  obey  not  the  Word,  they 
may  also,  without  the  Word,  be  won  by  the  conversation  of 
their  wives,  while  they  behold  (literally,  while  they  watch)  your 
chaste  conversation,  coupled  with  fear."  How  is  it  possible  to 
exalt  higher  the  spiritual  influence  of  the  Christian  woman  ? 
She  supplies  the  place  of  the  Divine  Word  to  her  husband,  when 
her  conversation,  watched  by  means  of  the  conjugal  intimacy, 
reveals  to  him  the  hidden  power  with  which  the  Gospel  operates 
in  her  heart.  A  man  must  be  truly  blind,  truly  hardened,  not  to 
yield  at  last  to  the  daily  spectacle  of  living  and  true  piety  which 
he  beholds  in  his  wife,  one  of  which  he  gathers  fruit  so  sweet 
that  one  is  ready  to  ask,  which  has  the  most  to  gain  from  it, 
either  he  for  the  present  life,  or  she  for  the  life  to  come  ? 


THE   LIFE    OF   WOMAN.  65 

However  it  may  be,  woman,  be  faithful,  and  await  the  fideUty 
of  God.  You  envy  the  woman  who  hears  her  husband  saying  to 
himself,  "  a  prudent  wife  is  from  the  Lord."  But  what  passes, 
think  you,  in  the  heart  of  that  other  woman,  who  some  day  invo- 
luntarily concealed,  sees  her  husband  fall  upon  his  knees,  exclaim- 
ing :  "  My  God!  I  bless  thee  for  having  given  me  a  faithful  wife, 
who  has  led  me  to  thyself !"  Perhaps  this  testimony  will  l^e 
refused  you  upon  earth  ;  but  how  many  men  render  it  at  the 
tomb  of  a  wife,  whom  henceforth  they  seek  in  a  better  world  ! 
How  many  men  at  the  last  day,  when  every  veil  is  raised,  will 
say  to  their  Judge,  in  the  most  profound  sense  of  the  word  :  It 
is  good  for  me  that  I  was  not  alone  I 

Would  you  see  all  that  I  have  said,  all  that  might  be  said 
upon  this  subject,  sumned  up  in  a  few  lines  ?  Read  the 
description  of  a  virtuous  woman,  guiding  her  son  in  the  choice 
of  a  wife.  If  the  general  tone,  or  some  detached  features  of  this 
picture,  seem  to  you  to  contrast  with  the  Christian  woman 
as  painted  in  the  Gospel,  forget  not  that  it  is  taken  ffom  the 
Old  Testament,  in  v/hich  the  splendor  of  visible  things  serves  as 
an  emblem  of  invisible,  spiritual  beauty,  "  Who  can  find  a  vir- 
tuous woman  ?  for  her  price  is  far  above  rubies.  The  heart  of 
her  husband  doth  safely  trust  in  her,  so  that  he  shall  have  no 
need  of  spoil.  She  will  do  him  good,  and  not  evil,  all  the  days 
of  her  life.  She  seeketh  wool  and  flax,  and  worketh  willingly 
with  her  hands.  She  is  like  the  merchant's  ships  ;  she  briugeth 
her  food  from  afar.  She  riseth,  also,  while  it  is  yet  night, 
and  giveth  meat  to  her  household,  and  a  portion  to  her  maidens. 
She  considereth  a  field,  and  buycth  it  :  with  the  fruit  of  her 
hands  she  planteth  a  vineyard.  She  girdeth  her  loin^  with 
strength,  and  strengtheneth  her  arms.  She  perceiveth  that  her 
merchandise  is  good  :  her  candle  goeth  not  out  by  night.  She 
layeth  her  hands  to  the  spindles,  and  her  hands  hold  the  distaff 
She  stretcheth  out  her  hand  to  the  poor  ;  yea,  she  reacheth 
forth  her  hand  to  the  needy.  She  is  not  afraid  of  the  snow  for 
her  household  ;  for  all  her  household  are  clothed  with  scarlet 


56  ADOLrnE  mo:nojj. 

She  maketh  herself  coverings  of  tapestry  ;  her  clothhi;  is  silk 
aud  purple.  Her  husband  is  known  in  the  gates,  where  ne  sit- 
teth  among  the  elders  of  the  land.  She  maketh  fine  linen,  and 
selleth  it,  and  delivereth  girdles  unto  the  merchant.  Strength  and 
honor  are  her  clothing,  and  she  shall  rejoice  in  time  to  come. 
She  opeueth  her  mouth  with  wisdom,  and  in  her  tongue  is  the 
law  of  kindness.  Her  children  rise  up,  and  call  her  blessed  ;  her 
husband  also,  and  he  praiseth  her.  Many  daughters  have  done 
virtuously,  but  thou  excellest  them  all.  Favor  is  deceitful, 
and  beauty  vain  ;  but  a  woman  that  feareth  the  Lord,  she  shall 
be  praised  !" 

Behold  a  woman  without  humility,  who,  instead  of  being  the 
glory  of  her  husband,  only  seeks  in  her  union  with  him  the 
means  of  glorifying  herself  ;  who  loves  to  eclipse  him,  by  w^hom 
she  should  desire  to  be  eclipsed,  and  who  finds  less  pleasure  iu 
his  smile  of  approbation  than  in  the  flattery  of  strangers  ; 
a  woman  without  charity,  who  abandons  to  mercenary  hands  the 
first  interests  of  her  house,  and  of  her  children  ;  w^ho  even  sets  an 
example  to  her  husband  to  seek  his  pleasures  away  from  home  ; 
wiio  contradicts  him  w^th  bitterness,  and  roughly  magnifies  her 
wrongs,  supposed  or  real  ;  restless  and  slovenly  at  home,  gra- 
cious aud  kind  as  soon  as  she  crosses  the  threshold  of  her 
door  ;  a  woman  without  piety,  ready  to  say  of  her  husband,  as 
Cain  of  Abel,  "  Am  I  his  keeper  ?"  or  only  using  her  influence  to 
turn  him  from  the  Saviour,  like  the  wife  of  Jehoram,  whose 
fatal  influence  the  Holy  Spirit  points  out  in  a  few  words  : 
"  Jehoram  w^alketh  in  the  way  of  the  kings  of  Israel,  like  as  did 
the  house  of  Ahab  :  for  he  had  the  daughter  of  Ahab  to  wife" — a 
woman,  in  short,  who  compels  her  husband  to  groan  in  secret 
over  the  day  when  he  was  blind  enough  to  seek  her  hand, 
until  he  shall  measure  before  the  tribunal  of  God,  the  whola 
extent  of  the  evil  she  has  done  him  for  eternity  ! 

0,  ye  who  recognize  in  this  picture  some  features  of  your  own 
image,  what  shall  I  say  to  you  ?  Change  your  course  ! — become 
the  woman  acceptable  to  God — acceptable  to  the  heart  of  man  I 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  57 

Change  you  may,  for  to  this  is  needful  neither  youth,  nor 
beauty,  nor  superior  mind  :  it  is  only  needful  that  you  become  a 
Christian  woman  I 

But  since,  at  this  day,  woman  enters  not  as  Eve,  at  birth,  into 
marriage,  let  us  take  her  at  that  point  of  her  development  where 
she  commences  to  prepare  herself  for  her  future  work,  and 
address  ourselves  to  the  young  girl.  Understand  well,  my 
young  sister,  what  determines  the  character  of  your  condition 
and  its  privileges.  The  race  to  be  run  is  yet  all  before  you  ; 
and  while  those  who  have  preceded  you  cannot  look  back  with- 
out seeing  much  to  deplore,  to  repair,  to  efface  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, let  nothing  prevent  you  from  reserving  for  your  mission  as 
woman,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  all  that  you  have  of  time, 
resources,  life.  Under  the  blessing  of  God,  I  have  said  ;  for, 
without  Him,  what  are  our  most  sincere  resolutions,  and,  above 
all,  the  resolutions  of  a  young  girl  ?  Nowhere  is  the  spirit  more 
willing,  nowhere  is  the  flesh  more  weak.  The  wind  plays  not 
more  capriciously  with  the  dust,  than  the  tempter  with  the  pro- 
jects of  fidelity  which  you  form  for  the  future.  Alas  !  how  many 
women  at  your  age,  formed  theirs,  v/hose  actual  life  responds  so 
little  to  your  ideal — still  less  to  theirs  I  Far  be  it  from  me,  my 
dear  daughter,  to  discourage  your  generous  promises  ;  I  would 
only  that  you  carry  them  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  shelter 
your  weakness  under  the  strength  of  the  Omnipotent  God. 
Then,  I  will  deliver  myself  without  fear,  to  the  pleasure  of  con- 
templating in  you  the  living  type  of  hope  ;  of  hope,  this  incom- 
parable grace  of  youth,  exalted  all  the  more  in  the  young  girl, 
by  her  greater  influence,  and  by  her  hidden  destiny.  For,  who 
ever  thought  of  personifying  hope,  otherwise  than  under  the 
traits  of  a  young  girl  ? 

In  this  uncertain  expectation,  it  is  asked,  if  the  young  girl 
should  prepare  herself  for  the  general  mission  of  humanity,  or  for 
the  special  mission  of  the  wife.  Authors  who  have  treated 
the  subject  of  the  education  of  girls,  are  divided  upon  this  point. 
We  say,  relying  upou  Scripture,  either   answer  is  incomplete 

a* 


58  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

Yes,  without  doubt,  the  young  daughter  should  be  prepared  for 
the  general  mission  of  humanity,  which  is  to  glorify  God,  who 
created  us  in  Ilis  image  ;  but  tliis  preparation  is  not  sufficient  ; 
for,  independently  of  the  general  mission  which  she  shares  with 
man,  woman  has  yet  a  special  mission,  which  is  the  subject  of 
these  discourses.  Yes,  the  young  girl  must  be  prepared  for  the 
special  mission  of  the  wife,  which  is  to  bean  ''  helpmeet"  to  one 
man  in  particular,  since,  according  to  the  ordinary  course  of 
things,  she  will  be  married.  But  this  preparation  should  not  be 
exclusive  ;  for  every  woman  is  not  called  to  marriage,  and  a 
special  education  in  this  sense  is  in  danger  of  missing  its  aim. 
Here  is  the  secret  of  reconciling  all.  Together  with  the  general 
mission  of  humanity,  and  the  special  mission  of  the  wife,  there  is 
for  woman  a  third  mission,  special  as  to  the  first,  general  as  to 
the  second,  pecuhar  to  woman,  and  common  to  all  women — that 
which  I  have  explained  from  the  Scriptures,  which  Moses  reveals 
in  calling  woman  an  ''helpmeet"  to  man,  and  Paul,  in  calling 
her  "  the  glory  of  man."  I  would  prepare  the  young  girl  for 
this  mission,  without  losing  sight  either  of  the  supreme,  necessity 
of  glorifying  God,  or  the  natural  eventuality  of  marriage.  She 
will  then  be  prepared  for  both,  by  the  intermediate  preparation 
which  w^e  claim,  if  she  is  what  she  ought  to  be. 

Let  young  girls  look  carefully  to  the  spirit  of  this  preparation, 
and  let  their  mothers  look  to  it  for  them.  Since  a  woman's 
highest  excellence,  next  to  the  fear  of  God,  is  in  the  humble  vir- 
tues of  domestic  life,  the  first  care  of  a  daughter,  after  that  given 
to  her  soul,  should  be  to  cultivate  these  inward  and  hidden  vir- 
tues. I  hardly  need  say  to  her,  abstain  from  all  that  has  the 
appearance  of  evil ;  carefully  avoid  pictures,  plays,  readings, 
which  can  bring  the  slightest  stain  upon  the  purity  of  your 
heart.  But  it  will  be  less  superfluous  perhaps  to  say  to  her  : 
Mistrust  the  maxims  of  an  egotistical  and  sensual  age,  which, 
seeking  in  a  young  girl  merely  an  agreeable  plaything  to  divert 
the  melancholy  which  devours  it,  decks  her  in  haste  with  brilliant 
charms,  instead  of  adorning  her  by  slow  degress  with  useful 


THE    LIFE    OF    AVOMAX.  59 

graces.  A  vain  brilliancy,  a  precocious  development,  knouiedgo 
badly  directed,  the  memory  burdened  without  regard  to  the  in- 
tellect, gifts  of  imagination  placed  in  the  first  rank  ;  this  is  the 
tinsel  which  the  education  of  the  day  prefers  for  our  daughters, 
to  the  pure  gold  of  an  instruction,  solid,  beneficent,  precious  in 
the  sight  of  God  and  man.  This  tinsel,  I  firmly  believe,  my 
young  sisters,  is  meant  by  the  world  for  itself,  whereas  there 
should  be  pure  gold  for  you  and  for  your  house. 

I  do  not  exclude  you  from  any  serious  study,  because  I  would 
not  deny  you  any  legitimate  mode  of  influence.  Give  yourself 
without  scruple  to  the  culture  of  the  imagination,  of  literature, 
01  art,  which,  in  developing  an  essential  and  too  much  neglected 
side  of  the  human  mind,  will  be  an  aid  to  the  beneficial  influence 
you  wish  to  exercise,  by  adding  to  your  capacity  to  please.  Only 
put  everything  in  its  right  place,  and  arrange  your  subjects  of 
study  according  to  the  demands  of  your  mission.  Above  all,  be 
yourselves,  be  women,  and  never  sacrifice  to  the  false  tastes  of 
man  the  distinctive  occupations  of  your  sex.  Tell  me  not  of  a 
young  girl,  who  can  win  the  applauses  of  all,  at  a  concert,  but 
who  knows  not  how  to  hold  a  needle,  or  to  make  herself  useful 
at  home  !  Lastly,  I  may  include  all  my  exhortations  in  one  : 
let  the  heart  be  well  governed,  and  let  it  control  the  life.  By 
the  Word  of  God  and  prayer,  nourish  within  you  this  humility, 
this  charity,  wdiich  are  the  peculiar  graces  of  woman,  and  the 
first  conditions  of  her  mission.  The  world  itself  could  teach 
you,  in  default  of  the  gospel  and  your  own  conscience,  that  if 
humility  and  charity  were  banished  from  the  earth,  they  ought 
to  find  a  last  refuge  in  the  heart  of  a  young  girl.  As  for  me, 
if  I  love  to  sec  woman  beneath  the  cross,  with  Bible  in  hand,  a 
young  girl,  above  all,  I  love  to  contemplate  in  this  attitude,  pre- 
paring herself  for  a  future  career  known  only  to  God,  but  which 
can  be  faithfully  accomplished,  whatever  it  may  be,  only  beneath 
the  cross,  with  Bible  in  hand. 

One  word  more,  for  you  and  your  families,  but  a  word  without 
development,  upon  a  matter  as  grave  as  it  is  delicate.     Let  it  ba 


60  ADOLPIIE    MOXOD. 

understood,  that  deciding  resolutely  to  marry  only  in  the  Lord, 
you  will  give  your  hand  to  none  but  a  moral,  religious  man,  capable 
of  entering  with  you  into  the  Christian  idea  of  marriage.  By 
this  entirely  passive  resolution,  not  ouly  ill-assorted  unions 
might  be  prevented,  but  also  a  happy  reaction  would  be  ex- 
erted upon  the  manners  and  principles  of  society,  and  men 
would  find  in  modest  girls  the  most  efficient  ''helpmeets," to  say 
nothing  of  the  most  powerful  reformers. 

Yet  you  need  not  await  this  most  uncertain  event,  to  be  a 
"  helpmeet "  unto  man.  You  can  be  such  now,  believing  that  the 
accomj^lishment  of  your  present  task  is  the  best  guaranty  for 
that  of  the  future.  Your  actual  position  demands,  it  is  true,  a 
peculiar  reserve.  With  one,  it  is  the  humble  equality  of  the 
wife,  with  another,  the  respectful  inferiority  of  the  daughter 
who  has  hardly  passed  the  period  of  childhood  :  but  this  reserve 
permits,  it  even  encourages,  a  kind  of  useful  activity  proper  to 
your  age.  True  humility  prompts  true  charity  ;  and  the  flowers 
which  hide  beneath  the  grass  their  delicate  colors,  are  those 
which  emit  the  most  fragrant  perfume.  How  many  ways  there 
are  for  you  to  do  good,  without  going  beyond  the  domestic  cir- 
cle !  You  have  a  school,  a  parish  ready  for  you,  in  the  young 
children  of  the  family,  whose  education  already  you  share  with 
their  mother.  Contrary  to  the  common  law  of  prophets,  you  are 
called  to  exercise  your  humble  ministry  "  in  your  own  country, 
and  your  own  house."  Do  you  realize  all  you  can  be  to  this 
young  brother,  over  whom  your  advantage  of  some  years  gives 
you  a  kind  of  influence  of  your  own,  whose  confidence  in  you  is 
all  the  more  free,  because  unrestrained  by  deference  ?  Like  that 
loving  sister,  who  watches  beside  the  floating  cradle  confided  to 
the  Nile,  when  prudence  permits  not  a  mother  to  reveal  herself : 
who,  on  account  of  her  youth  is  employed  without  exciting  sus- 
picion, to  give  to  Moses  a  faithful  mother  for  nurse  at  the  moment 
when  God  gives  him  an  unfaithful  princess  for  a  mother,  and 
who  then  disappears  from  the  scene,  content  with  having  helped 
a  brother  forward  into  the  world,  whose  name,  one  day,  must 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAX.  61 

eclipse  her  own — has  God  placed  you  beside  your  brother,  to 
give  him  such  help  as  he  can  find  nowhere  else,  and  which  he 
would  be  least  suspected  of  receiving.  Beside  him,  yesterday, 
you  taught  him  to  read,  or  to-day,  you  inspire  him  with  un- 
quenchable ardor  in  his  fatiguing  studies  ;  and  to-morrow,  you 
counsel  him  in  his  choice  of  a  profession,  or  in  that  of  a  wife. 

But  those  for  whom  you  can  do  most,  are  those  to  whom, 
next  to  God,  you  owe  all.  Who  can  supply  to  the  father  and 
mother  that  daughter's  place,  who,'  timid  and  silent  with 
strangers,  is  at  home  full  of  that  sweetness  and  fire,  which,  at 
this  age,  are  the  marvellous  combinations  of  nature  ?  Who  will 
supply  to  them  her  light  and  caressing  hands,  her  prompt  and 
subtle  spirit,  her  tender  and  submissive  affection,  her  firm  and 
simple  piety,  to  lighten  the  burden  of  years,  to  soothe  their 
pains,  to  dissipate  their  anxieties,  to  anticipate  their  wishes,  to 
gladden  their  hearts,  to  comfort  their  souls,  as  if  she  longed  to  give 
back  to  them  the  life  she  received  from  them  ?  This  young  daugh- 
ter that  you  see  hiding  herself  behind  her  mother,  blushing  at  the 
attention  she  attracts  in  spite  of  herself,  do  you  not  know,  that 
she  is  more  than  the  ornament  of  the  house  ?  She  is  its  joy,  its 
life,  its  pillar,  or  if  you  prefer  a  term  borrowed  from  Scripture, 
she  is  its  corner  stone  ;  ''  that  our  daughters  may  be  as  corner- 
stones, polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace."  Coming  from 
the  Scripture,  so  exact  even  in  its  boldest  poetry,  you  under- 
stand what  is  meant  by  this  corner  stone.  Alas  !  you  -will  know 
some  day,  perhaps,  the  profound  truth  of  this  image,  as  you  sec 
the  void  made  in  the  house  by  the  removal  of  this  loved  child  I 
You  will  understand,  then,  what  were  her  love,  her  devotion, 
her  piety  to  those  who  shall  surround  her,  and  shed  tears  over 
her  loss.  But  no,  you  will  not  realize  it ;  her  family  alone  will 
understand  it — let  us  retire — sympathy  itself  may  be  intrusive — 
let  us  not  intermeddle  with  the  secret  of  their  grief,  we,  who 
have  never  penetrated  into  that  of  their  joy  1 

This  is  not  all.  There  are  good  works  for  which  I  permit  the 
young  daughter  to  leave  the  domestic  sanctuary,  and,  if  need  be, 


62  ADOLniE   MOXOD. 

to  lay  aside  the  reserve  even,  which  her  age  prescribes  to  her 
Would  you  instruct  the  ignorant,  relieve  the  poor,  exhort  the 
sick,  visit  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  ?  Go,  my  daughter  ; 
go,  without  hesitation,  and  may  the  Lord  go  with  you  !  I  love 
to  see  the  young  girl,  who  is  ever  ready  to  assist  her  mother  in 
the  labors  of  housekeeping,  to  offer  her  arm  to  her  aged  father, 
or  to  read  the  Bible  with  her  brothers  and  sisters,  turn  from  this 
charity  within  to  charity  without,  and  bestow  upon  the  unhappy, 
attentions  which  they  receive  with  double  gratitude,  surprised 
to  see  her  reserve  for  such  uses,  graces  which  so  many  others 
think  themselves  permitted  to  devote  to  the  world  and  its  pleas- 
ures. Permitted  !  it  may  be,  if  we  wish  it ;  but,  permitted  or 
not,  a  life  of  pleasure  seems  to  you,  without  doubt,  less  desirable, 
less  conformed  to  the  mission  of  woman,  than  that  which  I  have 
proposed  to  you.  Or,  indeed,  do  you  recognize  rather  the 
"helpmeet"  in  that  othei*  young  girl,  vrho  prefers  the  shameful 
horrors  of  a  daughter  of  Herodias,  to  the  modest  glory  of  a 
Rebecca  ;  who  loves  better  to  be  the  idol  of  saloons  tlian  the 
treasure  of  the  family,  who  finds  more  delight  in  loading  herself, 
at  great  expense,  with  rare  ornaments,  than  to  be  herself  as  God 
made  her,  the  ornament  of  her  home  ;  who  consumes  herself  in 
fruitless  efforts  to  attract  the  notice  of  men,  and  to  outstrip  her 
companions,  I  might  say  her  rivals  (accuse  me  not  of  exagger- 
ation) ;  who  abandons  herself  to  vanities,  and  casts  into  the 
void  this  plenteous  sap  of  life  which  has  been  given  her  for  a 
day,  and  which  to-morrow  she  will  seek,  and  no  longer  find. 
Poor  child,  willing  to  bury  herself  all  alive  in  the  cold  joys  of 
the  present  life  I  Sad  victim,  day  after  day,  night  after  night, 
sacrificed  to  the  folly  of  the  world,  by  the  vanity  of  her  own 
heart !  Some  morning,  at  break  of  day,  two  young  ladies  sud- 
denly meet  in  the  silent  street.  One  hastens  from  the  ball  to 
her  bed,  that  she  may  snatch  some  tardy  repose  after  her  pleas- 
ures ;  the  other,  to  the  death-bed  of  one  who  calls  for  her  in  all 
haste,  unable  to  depart  in  peace,  he  says,  without  the  presence 
of  his  good  angel  !     Young  ladies,  choose  ! 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  DO 

We  have  contemplated  womau  before  marriage,  let  us  contem- 
plate her  now  after  marriage,  intrusted  with  that  precious  fruit 
which  Scripture  calls  "  a  heritage  from  the  Lord  :"  let  us  turn  to 
the  wife  now  become  a  mother.  Towards  this  son,  whom  God 
has  given  you,  Christian  mother,  you  occupy  a  position  not  of 
inferiority,  as  the  daughter,  nor  of  equality  as  the  wife  ;  but  of 
superiority,  and  that,  too,  a  superiority  whicli  does  not  exclude 
the  renunciation  peculiar  to  the  mission  of  womau.  It  is  not 
good  that  the  child  should  be  alone,  and  God,  who  has  given 
him  to  you,  has  given  to  him,  at  the  same  time,  in  you,  a 
"  helpmeet."  Even  the  tender  cares  which  his  physical  develop- 
ment claims,  are  dear  to  your  heart.  Anxious,  by  nourishing 
him  from  your  own  life,  to  prolong  the  pride  of  communicating  to 
him  being,  you  will  not,  without  a  necessity  thrice  demonstrated, 
deprive  him  of  the  treasures  with  which  nature  has  enriched  you, 
through  him,'  and  for  him,  nor  deprive  yourself  of  the  holy  plea- 
sure of  being  an  undisputed  mother.  Yet,  a  graver  interest  pre- 
occupies me  at  this  time  ;  the  aid  which  you  owe  before  all 
others  to  this  little  one,  is  education,  the  birth-giving  of  the 
soul,  which  follows  by  right  that  of  the  body,  and  which  no  one 
should  dispute  with  you. 

That  ineffable  joy  with  which  you  welcome  jour  son,  vvhat  is 
it  but  the  natural  joy  of  Eve,  who  called  her  first-born  Cain, 
that  is  to  say,  "acquisition,"  because  "she  had  gotten  a  man 
from  the  Lord  ?"  Or,  indeed,  is  it  the  more  noble  joy  signified  by 
Christ,  in  these  words,  whose  striking  truth  so  often  has  made 
you  start :  "  A  woman,  when  she  is  in  travail,  hath  sorrow, 
because  her  hour  is  come  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  is  delivered  of  the 
child,  she  remembereth  no  more  the  anguish,  for  joy  that  a  man 
is  born  into  the  world."  Maternity  is  a  ministry,  and  the  first 
condition  of  a  faithful  ministry  is  disinterestedness.  Say  not, 
here  is  my  son,  born  to  me,  born  of  me,  anil  for  me  ;  but  say, 
here  is  a  man  born  into  the  world,  for  the  good  of  the  world. 
"  What  manner  of  child  shall  this  be  ?"  demand  earth,  heaven, 
ftud  hell,  bending,  as  if  suspended,  in  boundless  expectation  over 


64  ADOLPHE  MOXOD. 

the  cradle  of  this  frail  creature,  whose  life  has  just  disengaged 
itself  from  yours  !  The  response — I  say  it  not  forgetting  tlie 
divine  operation,  which  is  exerted  through  human  instrumen- 
tality— the  response  depends,  before  everything  else,  upon  the 
training  ;  and  the  training  depends,  before  everything  else,  upon 
the  mother. 

It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  the  decisive  moment  in  eauca- 
tion  is  the  point  of  departure.  In  the  earliest  years  is  implanted 
that  strong  bias  which  gives  shape  to  the  entire  life.  But  the 
first  years  belong  to  the  mother.  Paganism  took  them  from 
her  ;  but  Jesus  Christ  restored  them  to  her.  Grudge  her  not 
these  beginnings.  If  they  are  too  important  for  strangers,  they 
are  also  too  delicate  and  too  exacting  for  a  father.  Aptness, 
freedom  of  mind,  time,  patience,  are  wanting  to  us.  But  all 
this,  God  has  given  to  the  mother.  No  one  else  so  clearly  dis- 
cerns the  nature  of  her  son,  the  strength  and  weakness  of  his 
character,  the  allowance  to  be  made  for  his  temperament,  the 
degree  of  severity  and  indulgence  suited  to  his  disposition,  and 
the  precautions  needed  to  make  him  plastic  without  spoiling  him. 
No  other  one  possesses  so  truly  the  art  of  awakening  his  curi- 
osity, of  stimulating  his  ardor,  of  gaining  his  attention,  of  keeping 
his  eyes  open,  and  of  initiating  him  by  degrees  in  the  practical 
knowledge  of  things,  which,  more  living  than  that  of  books,  has 
also  a  larger  part  in  the  development  of  the  life.  No  other  has 
a  hand  gentle,  and  at  the  same  time  strong  enough,  to  give  to 
the  rising  plant  its  early  bias — a  hand  at  once  too  strong  to  be 
resisted,  and  too  tender  to  awaken  a  wish  to  resist  it — and  which 
controls  all  his  future  growth. 

The  greatest  moral  power  in  the  world  is  that  exercised  by 
a  mother  over  her  child.  Demand  not  from  her  a  systematic 
account  of  it.  She  acts  from  inspiration,  more  than  from  calcu- 
lation, and  perhaps  never  says  to  herself  what  I  say  to  you. 
God  is  with  her  in  her  work,  and  here  is  the  secret.  She  appears 
to- you  perhaps,  to  guess  at  it ;  but  let  her  alone.  She  under- 
stands it  better  than  you,  and  will  accomplish  more  by  guessing, 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  65 

than  you  by  your  reasonings  and  calculations.  Rely  upon  God, 
and  the  maternal  instinct.  "  As  a  general  rule,  to  wliicli  at  least 
I  have  hardly  seen  exceptions,"  says  a  contemporaneous  writer, 
"  superior  men,  are  all  the  children  of  their  mother."  *  Contem- 
plate that  man,  strong  in  heart,  with  intrepid  voice,  whose 
indomitable  courage  in  turn  braves  the  wrath  of  a  prince  and 
controls  the  popular  wave,  and  whose  determined  will,  equally 
invincible  by  obstacles  and  fatigue,  seems  anxious  to  justify  the 
proud  maxim  :  "  Man  can  do  what  he  will."  You  give,  perhaps, 
the  honor  of  his  energy  to  nature.  But  learn  that  there  appeared 
in  his  childhood  a  spirit  so  irresolute,  a  character  so  vacillating, 
that  every  one  said  :  "  He  will  never  be  a  man."  A  woman  has 
made  him  a  ma7i !  and  this  woman  is  the  same  who  brought  him 
into  the  world.  She  alone  has  never  despaired  concerning  him. 
Sustained  by  love,  guided  by  instinct,  she  has  discovered  beneath 
his  weakness,  hidden  virtues,  which  she  labored  tenderly,  humbly, 
slowly  to  develop.  She  has  formed  him  to  perseverance,  by 
combats  wisely  graduated,  in  which  her  faithful  sympathy  has 
wished  to  share  in  everything,  but  the  honor  of  victory. 

She  has  revealed  him  to  himself,  she  has  restored  him  to 
society.  Then,  when  this  son,  upon  his  death-bed,  recalls  the 
good  permitted  him  to  accomplish  for  his  people  and  generation, 
to  his  mother,  next  to  God,  he  gives  the  glory  ;  and  the  last  name 
upon  his  lips,  in  his  delirium,  is  the  same,  which  he  attempted  to 
pronounce  fifty  years  before,  in  the  lispings  of  his  infantile  days  I 

I  may  be  permitted  to  add,  without  overlooking  the  value  of 
our  instruction,  that  maternal  education  is  rendered  doubly 
necessary  by  the  tendency  of  our  public  instruction.  We  often 
hear  the  complaint  that  with  precious  resources,  which  it  places 
at  the  disposal  of  all  classes,  it  presents,  to  say  the  least,  griev- 
ous deficiencies,  it  may  be  for  the  heart,  about  which  it  concerns 
itself  too  little,  it  may  be  also  for  the  mind,  with  which  it  shows 
itself  too  exclusively  occupied.     It  not  only  nourishes  self  lovo 

♦  Michelet. 


G6  ADOLPUE   MONOD. 

by  au  immoderate  use  of  the  priucii^le  of  emulation,  and  does 
nothing  to  inculcate  a  holy  respect  for  duty,  but  that  which  it 
does  with  so  much  skill,  labor  and  sacrifice  for  the  culture  of  the 
mind  itself,  is  at  least  incomplete.  The  faculties  which  depend 
upon  memory  are  sharpened  by  perpetual  exercise,  whilst  those 
that  depend  upon  reflection,  even  more  important  than  the  first, 
remain  comparatively  without  employment.  By  too  entirely 
occupying  every  moment  of  the  pupil,  by  absorbing  too  much 
his  ardor  in  a  laborious  preparation,  we  take  from  his  mind  the 
leisure,  the  elasticity,  the  activity,  requisite  to  assimilate  to 
itself  what  it  receives.  We  accustom  him  to  content  himself 
with  borrowed  knowledge,  into  which  his  personality  does  not 
enter.  Then  the  development  of  thought  and  character  ceases, 
or  a  wrong  direction  is  given  to  it.  The  flower  of  originality,  as 
charming  as  vigorous,  which  nature  refuses  to  no  one,  falls  before 
yielding  its  fruit.  We  might  say  that  a  low  equality  has  come 
upon  all  minds,  and  the  man  disappears  in  the  child,  because  the 
child  disappears  in  the  scholar.  For  an  evil  so  grave,  I  know 
no  remedy  but  the  counterpoise  of  family  life,  and  domestic 
education,  which  alone  can  penetrate  into  the  windings  of  the 
individual  mind,  and  give  it  its  proper  direction.  But  I  depend 
on  the  mother  to  save  this  family  life,  so  threatened  to-day  by 
common  life  ;  and  this  domestic  education,  I  rely  upon  her  to 
undertake.  Urge  her  not  to  send  away  her  child  :  let  him 
remain  a  long  while  with  her.  When  the  time  arrives  for  him 
to  enter  into  contact  with  public  life,  she  may  be  allowed  still  to 
interpose  to  maintain  the  rights  of  the  heart,  of  the  person,  of 
the  mind  ;  that  is  to  say,  of  the  man.  Are  you  jealous  of  the 
too  feminine  influence  she  exercises  ?  Know  that  this  influence, 
formidable  if  alone,  is  an  indispensable  complement  of  ours. 
Man  has  not  all  that  is  necessary  to  form  the  mind  of  man, 
because  this  mind  has  a  feminine  element.  I  so  name  this  tender, 
penetrating,  instinctive  faculty,  which  seizes,  or  shall  I  say  divines 
the  truth,  in  opposition  to  that  calm  reason  which  gives  an 
account  of  things,  and  to  that  strong  will  which  gives  an  account 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  67 

of  itself.  lu  this  seusc  it  cau  be  said  with  truth,  "  uo  man  of 
genius  was  ever  exempt  from  a  feminine  development."  Hesitate 
not :  place  public  instruction  under  the  safeguard  of  the  family, 
but  the  family  presided  over  by  the  mother  :  it  is  the  surest 
means  of  securing  advantages  to  your  son,  as  well  as  of  saving 
him  from  perils. 

Let  us  never  forget  in  education,  as  in  life,  that  "  one  thing  is 
needful;"  this  one  thing  needful,  is  the  result  of  the  mother's  suc- 
cess. Too  often,  alas  1  in  the  holy  work  of  guiding  her  son 
to  the  Saviour,  she  has  no  one  with  her  ;  happy  indeed,  if  all 
the  world  is  not  against  her.  But  if  alone,  let  her  take  cour- 
age ;  it  is  here  above  all  that  God  is  with  her,  and  He  is  suffi- 
cient for  her.  Are  we  speaking  of  a  young  child  ?  This  son 
beloved,  but  loved  in  the  Lord,  with  whom  she  humbles  herself 
each  day  at  the  feet  of  the  Saviour,  whom  she  teaches  him  to 
seek  in  1ms  earliest  thoughts,  and  name  in  his  earliest  words — 
she  holds  in  a  measure  his  soul  in  her  hands.  Alone  in  the 
world,  she  knows  the  ways  by  which  to  go  in  depositing  the 
fruitful  germs  of  salutary  truth,  instilled  with  so  much  love,  im- 
planted so  profoundly,  linked  so  strongly  to  the  natural  instincts 
(here  learn  the  empire  of  her  own  image  I)  that  neither  stwms 
without,  nor  storms  within,  shall  be  able  to  uproot  them.  Be- 
lieve me,  nothing  is  more  irresistible  to  man,  nor  at  once  more 
indestructible  in  man,  than  these  early  impressions  left  by  a  pious 
mother,  and  shielded  by  the  vague  and  simple  charm  of  youthful 
remembrances.  A  son  will  twice  doubt  the  mind  of  his  father 
before  he  doubts  once  the  heart  of  his  mother. 

Or,  are  we  speaking  of  the  age,  when,  no  longer  a  child,  and 
not  yet  a  man,  a  son  escapes  insensibly  from  the  watchful  care 
of  his  mother,  inspiring  her  with  new  solicitude  ?  By  a  faithful 
use  of  her  past  influence,  she  has  gained  the  confidence  of  this  son, 
and  this  confidence  to-day  is  an  assurance  for  the  future.  In  those 
tender  disclosures  which  she  has  made  a  habit  with  him,  and  a 
need  to  him,  she  reads  his  heart  to  its  depths  ;  and  a  heart  to  whose 
depths  we  read,  is  almost  always  one  of  which  we  are  master 


68  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

Passion  speaks,  perhaps  ;  lie  is  about  to  yield  :  but  he  must  tell 
his  motlier — impossible  ;  or  he  must  conceal  it  from  her — more 
impossible  still  ;  and  the  temptation  is  oyercome.  At  length  the 
time  arrives  for  the  last  embrace,  prelude  of  a  separation,  perhaps, 
eternal  ,  .  .  Christian  mother,  what  dost  thou  fear  ?  Prepared  dur- 
ing so  many  years  upon  the  humble  stocks  of  the  family,  launch, 
since  God  wills  it,  launch  thy  vessel  upon  the  uncertain  sea  I 
Let  thy  weeping  eye  follow  it,  even  to  the  most  distant  limits  of 
the  horizon,  and  then,  when  thou  shalt  see  it  tossing  upon  the 
farthest  wave,  ready  to  disappear — disappearing — disappeared — 
offer  thy  prayer,  committing  thy  treasure  to  Him  w^ho  holds  the 
winds  and  the  waves  in  His  hands,  and  who  loves — more  than 
thaw  lovest  I  Thou  hast  been  faithful  from  the  beginning  ;  He 
will  be  faithful  unto  the  end.  Go  on  ;  He  will  not  forget  the 
promise,  which  seems  to  have  been  given  expressly  for  thee. 
"  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old, 
he  will  not  depart  from  it." 

Happy  foresight,  justifying  a  still  happier  experience.  If  it  is 
true,  that  the  greater  part  of  distinguished  men  are  the  sous  of 
their  mothers,  it  is,  above  all,  true  of  religious  men.  Scripture 
history,  the  history  of  the  church,  and  contemporaneous  history, 
agree  in  attesting  it :  we  say  rather  in  leaving  it  to  be  discovered  ; 
for  it  is  necessary  to  seek  for  the  mother  to  discover  her,  behind 
this  son  whose  namo  eclipses  her  own  in  the  memory  of  man. 
But  this  is  all  a  Christian  mothers  asks.  If  she  has  saved  her  son, 
she  has  accomplished  her  mission  as  a  woman  ;  and  if  she  has 
saved  him  without  revealing  herself,  she  has  doubly  accomplished 
it.  Listen  to  the  Bible.  What  is  the  object  of  the  short  pre- 
face })laced  at  the  head  of  the  life  of  Samuel,  if  it  is  not  to  ex- 
plain this  holy  man  of  God,  this  giant  in  prayer,  this  first  link  in 
the  chain  of  prophets,  this  great  reformer  of  the  state  and  of  re- 
ligion, by  the  faith,  the  vow,  the  fidelity,  and  the  songs  of  Anna, 
his  mother  ?  How  this  recital  atones  for  the  brevity  with  which 
the  Bible  elsewhere  explains  in  a  similar  manner,  a  Moses,  a 
Pavid,  a  Timothy  1  and  how  it  gives  us  the  key  to  the  apparent 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  GO 

minuteness  with  wliicli  it  names,  in  passing,  the  mothers  of  the 
kings  of  Judah  I  Open  the  annals  of  the  chm'ch.  Who  hears 
the  name  of  Augustine,  that  living  light,  twice  almost  extin- 
guished, but  delivered  in  turn  from  lust  and  heresy,  to  glorify 
God  before  the  most  distant  posterity,  without  recognizing  with 
him  in  this  double  deliverance,  next  to  God,  the  hand  of  the  lov- 
ing, humble,  patient  Monica  ?  But  learn  that  Chrysostom, 
Basil  the  Great,  Gregory  of  Naziauyen,  and  many  others  who 
have  followed  in  their  steps,  each  had  their  Monica,  of  whom  we 
forget  to  inform  ourselves,  ungrateful  as  we  are,  even  while 
tasting  with  delight  the  fruit  of  that  which  she  sowed. 

But  we  need  not  extend  our  glance  so  far  :  look  around  you. 
Study  the  ways  of  God,  and  you  will  find  that  the  greater  part  of 
the  servants  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  our  generation  glories,  are 
indebted  to  a  mother  for  the  first  gleams  of  their  piety.  Not 
long  since,  in  a  pastoral  conference,  where  were  assembled  one 
hundred  and  twenty  American  pastors,  united  in  a  common 
faith,  each  one  was  invited  to  relate  the  human  cause  to  which 
he  attributed,  under  the  divine  blessing,  the  change  of  bis  heart. 
Do  you  know  many  gave  the  honor  to  their  mother  ?  Out  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty,  more  than  one  hundred  ! 

At  another  time,  a  mother  equally  faithful,  seems  not  to  have 
succeeded  as  well  ;  her  son  has  wandered  far  from  the  path 
which  she  traced  out  for  him,  A  mother,  after  all,  mother 
though  she  be,  is  not  God.  But  the  greater  the  wandering  of 
this  prodigal  sou,  the  more  we  admire  the  maternal  power  to 
which  he  closes  his  ear,  without  being  able  to  free  his  con- 
science, and  which  may  (what  do  we  know  ?)  triumph  at  last 
over  his  resistance,  long  after  the  voice  and  prayers  of  his  mother 
have  become  silent  in  death.  Disregard  the  piety  of  a  mother — 
that  is  possible,  but  forget  it — never,  no,  never  I  A  good  man 
was  hastening  towards  a  church  where  religious  service  for 
sailors-  was  being  held.  Opposite  the  church,  at  the  door  of  an 
inn,  he  saw  seated  an  aged  sailor,  with  a  rude  and  decided  air, 
who,  wit.h  folded  arms,  and  a  cigar  in  his  EPouth,  looked  with 


70  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

indifference,  or  else  with  disdain,  upon  those  of  his  comrades 
who  repaired  to  public  worship.  "  Mv  friend,"  said  the  stranger, 
approaching  hhn,  "  come  with  us  into  the  cliurch."  "  No," 
answered  the  sailor  roughly.  His  manner  would  have  given 
this  response  to  the  stranger,  who  added,  with  mildness,  "you 
appear  to  have  seen  hard  times.  Have  you  still  a  mother?" 
The  sailor,  raising  his  head,  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  sivanger, 
and  remained  silent.  "Ah!  well,  my  friend!  if  your  good 
mother  was  here,  what  counsel,  think  you,  would  she  give  ?" 
Wiping  away,  with  the  back  of  his  hand,  a  tear  which  he  vainly 
attempted  to  hide,  the  old  man  arose,  and,  with  a  choking  voice, 
said,  "  I  will  go." 

Mothers,  mothers,  understand  your  power  I  Feel  your  re- 
sponsibility !  Happy  the  child  who  has  a  good  mother  !  Hap- 
py your  son,  if  he  has  a  good  mother  ! 

But,  understand  me  ;  I  waste  not  this  name  upon  every  one, 
who  simply  loves  her  child.  A  loving  mother  is  one  thing,  and 
there  are  such  even  among  the  heathen  ;  a  good  mother,  accord- 
ing to  God,  is  quite  another  thing.  In  our  da}^,  alas  !  the 
history  of  some  men's  relations  with  their  mother  is  soon  told. 
All  this  intellectual,  moral,  spiritual  development  is  to  them 
unknown.  From  her  bosom,  the  poor  child,  (if  it  is  not  under 
the  roof  of  a  salaried  mother)  drops  into  mercenary  hands,  with- 
in the  paternal  mansion,  until  its  age  permits  it  to  go  forth 
from  home  to  college,  from  college  to  the  higher  institutions, 
from  the  higher  institutions  to  the  army  ;  and,  returning  from 
the  army,  if  he  returns  at  all,  what  will  this  mother,  to  whom 
he  was  almost  always  a  stranger,  be  to  him  now,  hut  a  stranger? 
— stranger  to  his  future  course — stranger  to  his  marriage — 
stranger  to  the  education  of  his  children.  Oh,  mother,  who  still 
hast  a  son  to  rear,  awake  !  And  thou,  mother,  who  hast  thus 
reared  one,  repent  I 

(Yes,  repent,  but  despair  not.  The  word  despair  is  not  Chris- 
tian. The  eleventh-hour  laborer  may  not  only  be  admitted,  he 
may  even  be  favored.     You  can  become  p.  "helpmeet"  to  your 


THE   LIFE   OF   W0:MAN.  7  J 

son,  and  educing,  by  the  grace  of  God,  good  from  evil,  experience 
the  truth  which  contains  in  it  the  germ,  the  whole  Gospel, 
"When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong."  One  work  completed, 
another  commences.  Too  late  for  that  of  education,  another 
remains  to  you,  for  which  it  is  never  too  late,  since  weight  of 
years  imposes  it  upon  you.  You  reign  no  longer  by  authority 
over  children,  who  have  become  men  ;  but  you  can  exercise 
over  them,  a  dominion  of  love  and  respect,  which  their  maturity 
will  honor.  Last  link  between  past  and  future  generations,  frail 
and  precious  vestige  of  that  which  has  been,  and  which  will  be 
no  more,  vigilant  depository  of  the  family  traditions — you  form 
a  venerable  centre,  around  which  group  themselves,  with  silent 
anxiety,  many  families  whom  your  departure  will  soon  disperse. 
In  your  presence,  the  depths  of  their  hearts  are  stirred  by  many 
thoughts,  many  interests,  many  passions  perhaps  ;  but  all  is 
restrained  by  the  common  feeling  which  you  inspire,  and  each 
vies  with  the  other  in  efforts  and  sa::,rifices  to  maintain  the  peace 
of  your  last  days.  Your  experience,  your  white  hairs,  your  past 
services,  your  present  infirmities,  a  vague  fear  of  not  finding  you 
in  your  place  to-morrow,  gain  for  you  every  heart.  Noble  aii^ 
useful  position  which  God  has  prepared  for  you  !  Words  d 
power,  received  as  the  experience  of  life,  as  the  warnings  Oi 
death,  almost  as  the  inspirations  of  heaven  1  Happy  the  mother, 
who  faithfully  completes  a  career  faithfully  begun  !  But  happy 
the  mother,  also,  who  longs  with  a  holy  jealousy,  to  finish  well 
that  which  she  began  badly  ;  who  knows  how  to  turn  to  the 
good  of  her  children  her  own  unfaithfulness.  "  The  aged  women 
likewise,  that  they  be  in  behavior  as  becometh  hoHness,  not  false 
accusers,  not  given  to  much  wine,  teachers  of  good  things,  tha.t 
they  may  teach  the  young  women  to  be  sober,  to  love  their 
husbands,  to  love  their  children,  to  be  discreet,  chaste,  keepers 
at  home  ;  good,  that  the  Word  of  God  be  not  blasphemed.'- 
The  secret  of  this  beneficent  influence,  is  in  the  inward  life. 
"  The  widow  who  liveth  in  pleasure,  is  dead  while  she  liveth  ; 
but   she   that   is   a   widow,  indeed,  and  desolate,  trusteth  ia 


72  ADOLPIIE   MOXOD. 

God,  and  coutiniicth   iu   supplications  and  prayers  night  aud- 
daj." 

If  I  mistake  not,  my  dear  sisters,  before  this  picture  which  I 
bave  drawn  of  the  Christian  wife  and  mother,  the  heart  of  one 
woman  sinks  within  her,  and  a  silent  tear  moistens  her  eye. 
This  woman,  perhaps  from  circumstances,  perhaps  from  choice, 
perhaps  from  a  generous  sacrifice,  or  from  religious  fidelity,  has 
become  neither  wife  nor  mother.  Understand  it  well  ;  it  is  but 
a  holy  jealousy  that  troubles  her  this  moment.  Exclusively  pre- 
occupied with  the  sublime  mission  of  hei*  sex,  she  would  accept 
without  diflBculty,  all  of  the  incomj^leteness,  according  to  opinion, 
according  to  the  heart,  and  to  the  law  of  Providence,  which  her 
position  offers.  But  having  no  one  to  whom  to  devote  herself, 
she  is  compelled  to  restrain  within  her  own  bosom  the  thirst  for 
sacrifice  which  consumes  her,  without  profiting  any  one  ;  to  this 
she  cannot  consent.  My  sister,  my  noble  sister,  shall  the  deli- 
cacy of  my  subject  close  my  lips  ?  It  signifies  not  that  it  is 
delicate,  provided  I  accomplish  my  mission  of  the  miuistry  of 
Jesus  Christ,  in  aidiug  you  to  accomplish  yours  as  a  woman. 
You  are,  I  love  to  tell  you,  iu  a  complete  illusion.  Your 
position,  viewed  in  the  light  of  God,  and  the  interest  of  your 
mission,  is  a  privileged  one,  if  you  can  so  regard  it.  Believe  the 
Apostle,  writing  to  the  Corinthians :  "  There  is  difference,  also, 
between  a  wife  and  a  virgin.  The  unmarried  woman  cared  for 
the  things  of  the  Lord,  that  she  may  be  holy  both  in  body  and  in 
spirit ;  but  she  that  is  married  careth  for  the  things  of  the  world 
how  she  may  please  her  husband.  And  this  I  speak  for  your 
own  profit  ;  npt  that  I  may  cast  a  snare  upon  you,  but  for  that 
which  is  comely,  and  that  ye  may  attend  upon  the  Lord  with- 
out distraction.  But  if  any  man  think  that  he  behaveth  himself 
uncomely  towards  his  virgin,  if  she  pass  the  flower  of  her  age, 
and  need  so  require,  let  him  do  what  he  will,  he  sinneth  not  ; 
let  them  marry.  Nevertheless,  he  that  standeth  steadfast  in  his 
heart,  having  no  necessity,  but  hath  power  over  his  own  will, 
and  hath  so  decreed  in  his  heart  that  he  will  kecD  his  virgin : 


THE   LITE   OF   WOMAN.  73 

doeth  well.     So  then,  he  that  giveth  her  in  marriage  doeth  " 
well,  but  he  that  giveth  her  not  in  marriage,   doeth  better." 
Strange  words,  it  must  be  confessed,  and  which  it  has  been  easy 
to  misconstrue  to  the  profit  of  erroneous  views  of  celibacy,  estab- 
lished at  a  favorite  time  in  the  church.     Without  doubt,  the 
language  of  Paul  must  be  explained  by  the  particular  circum-  •* 
stances   of  the  time  in  which  he  wrote  ;  but  we  may  boldly 
declare  that  he  would  never  have   expressed  himself  in   this 
manner,  if  he  had  considered  your  position  as  of  inferior  import- 
ance to  that  of  the  wife,  in  the  service  of  the  Lord,  and  in  the 
accomphshment  of  your  mission.     He  chose  himself  an  analogous 
position,  not  only  to  prove  to  the  churches  his  disinterestedness,  • 
And  to  relieve  them  of  the  burden  of  his  support,  but  to  give 
himself  "  unto  the  Word  and  prayer,"  with  greater  freedom  ; 
freedom  of  time,  of  action,  of  mind,  and,  in  short,  of  heart. 

These  reasons  are  worth  as  much  to  you  as  to  the  apostles,  and 
the  last  has  a  special  value  for  woman :  it  is  this,  above  all,  which 
I  desire  to  make  you  understand.  There  is  in  the  heart  of  woman, 
a  power  of  loving,  to  which  man  cannot  attain.  In  the  natural 
position,  which  is  conjugal  life,  this  power  expands  and  satisfies 
itself  in  the  family,  upon  a  husband  and  children.  In  single  life, 
it  finds  light  by  another  road,  and  throws  itself  into  one  or  the 
other  of  these  two  ways.  In  the  first  place,  it  turns  within,  and 
concentrates  itself  in  selfishness  ;  from  whence  springs  an  egot- 
ism without  measure  or  scruple.  Probably  in  this  class  of  single 
women  we  find  the  most  humiliating  examples  of  self-love,  of 
curiosity,  of  idleness,  of  avarice,  of  worldliness,  and  altogether 
of  petty  existence,  miserably  consumed  in  trifling  pleasures 
Or,  in  the  other  case,  it  turns  without,  diffusing  itself  in  love  to 
God,  and  to  our  neighbor,  and  impels  woman  to  devote  herself 
to  the  good  of  humanity,  as  a  wife  or  mother  lives  for  her 
family.  Then,  by  an  apparent  contradiction,  charity  gains  ^  at 
the  same  time  in  breadth  and  depth  ;  in  breadth,  because  it  ex- 
tends beyond  the  domestic  circle,  in  depth  because  it  assumes 
the  ardor  of  a  necessity,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  personal  feeliag, 

4 


74  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

saying  nothing  of  a  tinge  of  sweet  melancholy,  which  well  be« 
comes  it,  and  which  also,  in  its  way,  stimulates  it.  la  this  way 
holy  and  Christian  women  are  found  ;  or,  as  I  might  say,  the 
daughters  of  holiness  and  charity,  among  whom  we  must  seek 
for  the  most  accomplished  models  of  Christian  benevolence  ; 
\\  ho,  weary  of  earth,  impatient  of  heaven,  by  the  simplicity  of 
their  zeal,  by  the  purity  of  their  renunciation,  by  the  abundance 
of  their  good  W'Orks,  seem  perpetually  occupied  in  filling  an 
immense  void  which  God  has  made  in  their  hearts  for  the  good 
of  humanity.  Their  ranks  are  open  to  you  ;  enter  them,  follow- 
ing in  the  footsteps  of  the  many  women  who  have  chosen  this 
position  in  order  to  be  more  useful  to  the  w^orld.  Enter  them, 
and  give  yourself  no  repose  until  you  have  learnt  to  see  in  your 
isolation  a  merciful  privilege. 

God  has  prepared  before  you,  according  to  the  Apostle,  a 
path  of  good  works  :  to  walk  in  it  you  only  ueed  a  heart  truly 
consecrated,  not  with  that  selfish  devotion  which  seeks  self  even  in 
sacrifice,  but  with  that  disinterested  devotio  n,  which  sacrifices,  if 
necessary,  even  itself.  "  Open  thine  eyes,  and  thou  shalt  be 
satisfied  with  bread."  Look  first  around  you,  and  see  if  your 
family  relations  do  not  ofi'er  you  the  opportunities  you  desire. 
We  find  sometimes  very  near  us,  the  thing  which  we  seek  at  the 
ends  of  the  earth.  In  default  of  a  father  and  mother  who  have 
left  you,  you  have  perhaps  a  young  brother  at  the  outset  of  life, 
to  whom  you  can  be  a  friend  and  mother  ;  or  a  sister,  it  may 
be,  ready  to  sink  under  the  envied  burden  of  a  family,  if  she 
finds  not  in  you  that  complement  of  strength,  of  time,  of  health, 
of  light,  which  God  has  so  plainly  given  her  in  you.  Your 
heart  demands  a  family.  Well  now,  here  is  one.  It  is  not 
yours  ;  I  know  it  is  not  all  that  you  desire  ;  but  it  is  that  which 
God  has  chosen  for  you,  my  sister,  providing,  at  the  same  time, 
fo^the  good  of  others,  by  your  charitable  labors,  and  for  your 
own  by  your  self-renunciation.  No,  when  I  demand  of  the  whole 
earth,  a  type  of  the  charity,  most  useful,  most  pure,  most  Chris- 
tian, I  find  nowhere  those  conditions  better  fulfilled  than  in  the 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  75 

good  aunt,  who,  with  a  marvellous  forgetfulness  of  herself,  ac- 
cepts the  fatigues  and  the  cares  of  maternity,  without  its  ineff- 
able compensations  :  mother,  more  than  mother  perhaps,  when 
it  is  a  question  of  serving  and  supporting  ;  putting  herself  out 
of  sight,  when  it  is  one  of  reaping  and  enjoying  ;  sad,  but  with 
a  heavenly  sadness  which  translates  itself  into  love  and  devotion.-*^ 

What  if  an  engagement  of  family  binds  you  ;  extend  your 
view  ;  seek  a  family  in  all  who  need  you,  in  relieving  the  unfortu- 
nate, in  founding  or  sustaining  charitable  institutions,  in  aiding  a 
faithful  minister  in  his  labors,  in  all  the  good  works  for  wbich 
God  seems  expressly  to  have  reserved  your  liberty.  Or,  embrace 
if  you  can,  a  still  wider  field  :  embrace  the  world,  if  you  will 
provided  it  is  in  love.  Renew  in  your  person,  the  holy  ofQce  of 
deaconness  ;  prepare  yourself  for  it,  if  necessary,  in  these  schools 
which  a  vigilant  and  ingenious  charity  opens  to-day  to  pious 
females  ;  go,  another  Phebe,  carry  your  services  now  to  Rome, 
now  to  Cenchrea,  sometimes  in  a  hospital,  sometimes  in  a  family, 
sometimes  in  a  church,  wherever  they  shall  be  claimed,  even  if  it 
be  in  behalf  of  some  heathen  nation,  shut  up  under  other  skies. 
In  fine,  fulfill  so  well  your  mission,  that  at  the  hour  of  death, 
each  of  you  will  congratulate  herself  upon  the  happy  isolation 
which  permitted  so  much  devotion  ;  so  fulfill  it,  that  in  the 
afi'ectionate  regrets  which  follow  to  the  tomb  your  mortal  re- 
mains, none  shall  discover  whether  you  were  wife,  or  mother, 
sister  or  aunt,  parent  or  stranger,  because  they  see  it  not  in  your 
sacrifices  I 

If,  instead  of  taking  the  difference  of  natural  positions  as  the 
central  point  of  my  development,  I  had  taken  that  of  social 
positions,  I  could  equally  have  shown  you  woman,  finding  by 
turn  in  a  condition  of  equality,  of  superiority,  or  of  inferiority, 
special  resources  for  accomplishing  the  mission  of  her  sex.  The 
subject  must  be  left  to  your  personal  reflections.  Yet  there  is  a 
class  of  women,  that  I  cannot  permit  to  leave  this  place,  without 
some  words  of  encouragement,  because  I  believe  they  need 
them,  and  have  a  right  to  them. 


76  ADOLPHE   MO^'OD. 

Christian  woman,  whom  God  has  jDlaced  in  the  humble  rank 
of  servants,  the  levelling  spirit  of  this  age,  which  disturbs  all 
inferior  conditions,  has  not,  I  hope,  so  carried  you  away  that 
you  cannot  accept  the  trials  of  yours  ; — I  say  more,  that  you 
cannot  appreciate  its  compensations  and  advantages.  But  per- 
haps you  say  to  yourself  :  this  beautiful  mission  of  woman  is  for 
all  the  world  except  me  1  What  can  a  poor  servant  do,  who 
lives  by  dependence  upon  others  ?  Listen  to  my  answer.  You 
can  accomplish  the  mission  of  your  sex — I  say  not  in  spite  of  this 
dependence, — but  even  hy  its  help.  Many  women  have  forced 
things  to  create  for  themselves  a  way  of  obedience,  thus  de- 
ceiving themselves  in  substituting  their  wisdom  for  that  of  God. 
But  their  error  resulted  from  a  profound  instinct  of  woman,  lo 
which,  in  you,  God  has  taken  care  to  give  satisfaction  in  choos- 
ing for  you  the  lowest  place.  This  is  the  place,  which  our 
Saviour  prepared  ;  "  Who  took  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  ser- 
vant," and  "Who  came" — I  love  to  rej^eat  it — "to  minister, 
and  not  to  be  ministered  unto."  Was  it  an  obstacle  to  his 
Vfork  ?  Was  it  not  its  support,  its  condition,  its  life  ?  It  will 
be  all  that  for  you,  believe  it  well,  if  you  enter  into  the  Spirit  of 
your  Master. 

Hardly  could  I  name  one  who  contributes  more  to  the  order, 
the  prosperity,  the  happiness  of  a  house,  than  the  truly  Chris- 
tian servant ;  above  all  to  day,  when  the  treasure  is  so  rare, 
alas  I  and  so  imperfectly  appreciated  M^hen  found.  This  holy 
woman,  "  obedient  to  her  master  with  fear  and  trembling,  in 
singleness  of  heart  as  unto  Christ  ;  not  with  eye-service  as  men 
pleasers,  but  as  the  servants  of  Christ,  doing  the  will  of  God 
from  the  heart  ;"  anxious  to  please  them,  unwilHug  to  oppose 
their  wishes,  espousing  their  interests,  and  faithful  even  in 
trifles  ;  at  home  accommodating  herself  to  their  infirmities, 
and  concealing  them  when  abroad — good  and  noble  woman — 
with  the  veil  of  her  charity  ;  elevating,  in  fine,  her  condition  tc 
the  height  of  her  sentiments — free  by  faith,  a  servant  by  love— 
what  a  gift   of   God  for  a  family  I     Appreciate  this  blessing, 


THE   LITE   OF   WOMA^.  77 

you  who  have  received  it,  without  waiting  for  Go:!  i^  reveal  itw 
value  to  you,  by  removing  her  from  you  and  fiUi'jg  her  plac« 
with  one  of  those  servants,  so  numerous,  full  of  the  vorM,  auf 
of  themselves  ;  ill  at  ease,  and,  as  in  a  prison,  when  at  hon^c  — ii. 
constant  conspiracy  with  those  without,  like  a  traitor  iu  f. 
besieged  place,  scarcely  restrained  by  a  vigilance  more  fatiguing 
to  exercise  than  to  submit  to  ;  as  careful  of  her  person  in  public 
as  she  is  negligent  of  it  in  private  ;  spreading  through  the  town 
domestic  secrets  ;  curious,  gossiping,  crabbed,  and,  in  fine,  car- 
ing but  for  her  own  interests,  and  awaiting  only  an  offer  of  the 
slightest  advantage  to  break  a  yolvC  which  is  painful  to  bea.r. 

Thus  we  see  her  in  the  present  life — but  in  another  ?  Ah  I 
beware  of  thinking  the  spiritual  mission  of  vroman  is  denied  you. 
In  the  humble  sphere  assigned  you,  you  can  do  more  than  many 
others  for  the  service  of  the  Gospel,  provided  you  are  willing  to 
serve  it  as  a  woman,  gently,  silently,  endeavoring  before  all  else, 
"  to  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  your  Saviour  "  in  all  things,  by 
a  conversation  without  reproach.  Besides,  influence  ascends 
more  than  it  descends  :  many  a  one  resists  that  of  his  superiors, 
against  which  he  is  on  his  guard,  and  yields  to  that  of  his 
subordinates,  of  which  he  is  all  the  while  unconscious.  Hence 
the  power  of  the  enfranchised  in  Rome.  Hence,  in  Proverbs, 
the  influence  of  the  wise  servant  who  ruleth  over  a  sou  that 
causeth  shame,  and  who  shall  have  his  part  of  the  inheritance 
among  his  brethren.  Spiritual  influence  follows  the  one  law 
of  all  influences,  which  gain  in  power  as  they  are  most  con- 
cealed :  being  that  which  is  most  humbhng  to  the  natural  pride. 
Go  on,  your  spiritual  opportunity  is  great,  and  in  proportion  to 
it,  your  responsibility.  I  tell  you  that  there  is  a  retreat  into 
which  you  alone  can  penetrate  ;  there  is  a  conversion  which  God 
has  reserved  for  you,  and  which  no  one  can  accomplish  better 
than  you  ;  there  is  a  proud  heart  which  yields  neither  to  a 
mother,  wife,  nor  daughter,  but  which  will  be  constrain^n.^  to 
lay  down  its  arms  before  the  obscure  fidelity  of  a  servant ;  h» 
last"  here  being  "first." 


78  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

When  Peter,  escaping  from  prison,  knocked  at  the  door 
of  the  house  where  the  disciples  were  assembled,  Ehoda,  the 
servant,  was  permitted  to  run  before  him,  and  announce  the 
news  of  his  deliverance.  It  is  a  beautiful  privilege  to  open  thu 
door  to  an  apostle  ;  and  still  more  beautiful  to  open  it,  when 
pihe  Lord  knocks  ;  He  enters  willingly  by  these  private  doors, 
which  you  only  can  unclose  to  Him.  But  the  children,  above 
all,  the  children,  this  hope  of  the  future,  do  you  consider  the 
influence  which  God  has  given  you  over  their  minds  ?  How 
often  has  it  been  remarked  that  children,  instead  of  following 
the  example  of  their  parents,  more  readily  form  their  accents, 
'their  language,  their  habits,  from  servants  ;  it  may  be,  because 
of  more  frequent  intercourse,  or  less  apparent  efforts,  and  which 
least  provoke  resistance.  The  heart  of  man  is  thus  made.  This 
power,  it  only  remains  that  you  use  for  the  interests  of  the 
Gospel.  You  dispute  with  the  faithful  mother  the  spiritual 
development  of  this  child  which  you  carry  in  your  arms,  or 
w^hich  you  lead  to  walk  :  over  the  ordinary  mother  you  have  an 
advantage  ! 

With  works  such  as  these  to  do,  are  you  jealous  of  still 
greater  works  reserved  for  others  ?  Then,  finally,  the  greatness 
comes  from  God  :  and  it  depends  upon  Him  to  change  the  Httle 
things  which  you  have  accomplished  into  great  ones,  even  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world.  When  it  became  necessary  to  put  the 
powerful  and  vain-glorious  Naaman  in  communication  with  the . 
prophet,  who  would  at  the  same  time  both  heal  him  of  his 
leprosy,  and  reveal  to  him  the"  true  and  living  God,  a  little 
Israclitish  maiden  is  employed,  whom  the  soldiers  of  the  Syrian 
captain  had  taken  prisoner,  and  w^hom  he  had  given  to  his  wife 
for  a  slave.  Poor  child  I  she  hardly  imagined  when  she  strug- 
gled in  the  arms  of  her  savage  conquerors,  that  she  would  yet 
be  a  great  blessing  to  the  Syrian,  and  that  th.e  time  would  come 
when  she  would  be  cited  as  an  oracle  in  the  court  of  the  king  : 
"  Thus  and  thus  said  the  maid  that  is  of  the  land  of  Israel." 
Was  not  this  circumstance  narrated  for  your  encouragement? 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  79 

Do  you  remember  bow  Illyricum  received  the  Gospel  iu  tlie  first 
age  of  the  church  ?  By  a  Christian  woman,  who  was  there  sold 
as  a  slave.  I  say  all  this  not  to  excite  your  vanity,  or  to  be  a 
snare  to  you,  but  to  awaken  in  you  a  holy  jealousy,  to  lead  you 
to  appreciate  the  position  in  which  God  has  placed  you.  Yes, 
my  dear  sisters,  conform  yourselves  to  His  yiews  ;  not  a  word  of 
complaint  or  regret ;  no  ambitious  dreams  of  change,  but  a 
fidehty  full  of  joy,  to  your  peculiar  mission,  and  a  heart  which 
envies  one  nothing  but  a  more  active  charity  and  a  more  pro- 
found humility  ! 

Woman,  in  fine,  whoever  thou  art,  and  wherever  thou  art, 
take  to  thy  heart  this  word,  "  I  will  make  for  him  an  helpmeet," 
and  determine,  without  more  delay,  to  justify  the  definition 
which  God  has  given  of  thee. 

Useless  woman,  who  groanest  under  the  thought  that  thou 
hast,  even  to  this  day,  burdened  the  earth,  as  a  tree  without 
fruit  ;  that  thou  mightest  be  taken  away  from  it,  without  leav- 
ing any  greater  void  than  is  made  in  the  water  by  the  sword 
which  we  plunge  into  it  and  quickly  withdraw  from  it ;  thou, 
who  hast  hitherto  lived  without  knowing  from  whence  thou 
camest,  or  whither  thou  goest,  here  is  discovered  the  vague 
object  after  which  thou  longest  without  knowing  it.  Here  is  a 
work  for  thee,  to  which,  living,  thou  mayest  consecrate  thyself, 
and  dying,  will  be  able  to  say,  "  I  have  finished  the  work  which 
Thou  gavest  me  to  do."  Enter  to-day,  even,  according  to  thy  posi- 
tion— whose  apparent  difficulties  are  real  resources — upon  this 
life,  at  once  so  humble  and  so  glorious,  so  full  of  meaning,  and 
so  devoted,  for  which  God  destined  thee  in  the  day  when  he 
said,  "  I  will  make  an  helpmeet  for  him,"  and  which  Christ 
restored  to  thee  when  He  gave  Himself  for  us,  "  that  He  might 
redeem  us  from  all  iniquity,  and  purify  unto  Himself  a  peculiar 
people,  zealous  of  good  works." 

Worldly  woman,  who  hast  consumed  thy  most  beautiful  years 
in  cares,  innocent,  I  grant,  but  frivolous  and  unworthy  of  thee, 
infatuating  and  infatuated,  using  for  the  interests  of  thy  pride, 


80  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

a  power  wliicli  God  lias  confided  to  thee  for  liis  glory  and  the 
good  of  his  people,  here,  iu  place  of  this  brilliant  existence,  but 
brilliant  as  a  meteor,  resounding,  but  resounding  as  an  empty 
vessel,  here  is  a  life  glorious  and  full,  in  which,  in  a  word,  thou 
wilt  find,  in  finding  thyself,  the  satisfaction  which  thou  hast 
vainly  (is  it  not  true  ?)  demanded  of  the  world.  Take  oif  thine 
heart  from  vanity,  and  give  it  to  charity  !  Believe  me,  leave 
this  artificial  life,  which  supplants  and  abridges  the  real  ;  reserve 
for  thy  home  the  labors  of  the  day  and  the  repose  of  the  night  ; 
count  as  lost  the  day  in  which  thou  hast  not  done  some  good  ; 
enjoy,  in  short,  the  happiness  of  being  a  woman — and  thou 
wilt  knotv  that  if  made  to  be  to  man  a  "  helpmeet,"  it  is  better 
to  be  useful  to  him,  than  to  be  flattered  by  him  ;  to  serve  him, 
than  to  fascinate  him  I 

Isolated  woman,  from  whom  God,  who  renders  not  an  account 
of  his  doings,  has  taken  away  with  the  husband  of  thy  youth, 
the  attraction,  the  aim,  the  life  of  thy  life — and  thou,  also,  widow 
of  a  living  man,  forsaken  wafe,  whom  the  husband  of  thy  youth, 
after  a  short  joy  given  and  received,  has  overwhelmed  with 
grief  by  his  coldness,  if  not  by  his  unfaithfulness  ;  tender  plant, 
torn  from  the  earth,  that  it  may  be  transplanted  into  a  better 
soil,  but  which  has  been  cast  upon  the  road-side,  abandoned  to 
the  scorching  fire  of  the  sun  ;  thou,  whom  the  Lord  has  chosen 
as  a  type  of  the  most  ineffable  griefs,  take  courage — thy  consola- 
tion is  found  I  If  the  sweetness  of  being  loved  has  been  taken 
from  thee,  allow  not  thyself  to  be  despoiled  of  the  privilege  of 
loving,  of  loving  first,  loving  last,  loving  always,  of  loving  not- 
withstanding all.  Follow  in  the  steps  of  Jesus,  w^ho  was  de- 
pised  as  thou  art,  but  was  never  cold  and  unjust  as  one  is  with 
thee.  Be  still  unto  him  wlio  has  wronged  thee,  a  ''  helpmeet." 
Drink  without  a  murmur  the  cup  which  his  cruel  hand  offers  thee 
each  day  ;  oppose  his  ingratitude  only  with  an  increased  submis- 
sion and  devotion.  Be  silent,  liumble  thyself  Go  on  ;  this 
heart  which  thou  seekest  will  be  restored  to  thee,  conquered  by 
thy  love  I     But  should  it  persist  even  to  the  last  iu  its  injustice. 


THE   LIFE   OF   WOMAN.  81 

should  it — 0  horrible  thought  I — finish  its  murderous  work  by 
raising  some  day  against  thee  a  threatening  hand,  yield,  still 
blessing  him — accomplish  even  to  the  end  thy  mission  as  a 
v^oman,  rely  upon  God  whom  thou  lovest,  and  who  loves  thee 
in  order  to  make  thee  a  partaker  of  His  glory  through  his 
cross  I 

And  thou,  whom  I  hesitate  to  name,  fallen  woman,  charity 
will  not  permit  me  to  leave  thee  without  a  response — without  a 
response,  for  I  hear  thy  heart  interrogating  me.  Fallen  woman, 
— "  let  no  one  trouble  this  woman  I"  a  sinner  who  repents  is  a 
spectacle,  if  not  worthy  of  yoio,  yet  worthy  of  angels !  As  for 
me,  if  I  could  despise  her  tears  and  disdain  her  repentance,  I 
could  not  believe  myself  a  disciple  of  Him  who  said  to  the  peni- 
tent sinner  ;  "  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee — go  in  peace  !"  My 
sister,  my  poor  sister,  yes,  this  is  also  for  thee  I  Believe  not  thy- 
self alone  excluded  from  this  appeal,  and  beware  of  despairing 
of  thyself.  Thy  heart  burns  within  thee  to  accomplish  this  mis- 
sion of  woman,  to  become  to  man  what  God  made  thee,  a 
"  helpmeet."  Thou  canst — yes,  thou  canst ;  none  can  better  than 
thou,  if  none  feels  a  deeper  thirst  for  grace  !  Knowcst  thou  that 
many  of  the  holy  women  who  shine  in  the  first  ranks  among  the 
benefactresses  of  humanity  upon  the  earth,  and  among  the  re- 
deemed of  the  Lord  in  heaven — a  Rahab,  a  Mary  Magdalene,  a 
penitent  sinner,  commenced  as  thou  hast  ?  Well,  then,  finish  as 
they  did  I  Humblest  among  the  humble,  the  most  charitable 
of  the  charitable,  remember  the  past,  only  for  the  good  of  the 
future.  Permit  none  to  recall  the  past,  except  to  admire  in  thy 
change  both  the  divine  compassion,  and  the  vocation  of  woman  I 
And  upon  thy  guilty  head,  all  covered  to  my  eyes  by  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ,  let  the  blessing  of  the  Father,  and  the  Son, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  descend  with  mine  1 

But  we,  my  brethren,  witnesses  of  this  new  baptism  of  woman, 
have  we  gathered  naught  from  it  but  a  vain  spectacle  ?  It  con- 
cerns our  interests,  our  dearest  interests  ;  but  also  our  conscience. 
If  woman  owes  to  man  the  aid  of  a  "  helpmeet,"  does  man  owe 

4* 


025  ADOLPHE   :M0N0D. 

uothing  to  her  ?  If  woman  has  her  iuflueuce  over  us,  have  we 
no  influence  over  her  ?  This  duty  of  acknowledgment,  of 
reciprocity,  how  have  we  fulfilled  it  ?  We  said,  in  our  first 
discourse,  that  sin  came  to  us  by  woman  :  alas  !  have  we  not 
returned  it  to  her,  returned  it  with  usury  I  If  woman  has  dis- 
regarded her  mission,  who  has  taught  her  to  disregard  it  ?  If 
woman  has  been  idolized,  who  has  placed  her  upon  the  shameful 
pedestal  ?  If  woman  has  been  degraded  in  paganism,  in  poli- 
gamy,  in  licentiousness,  who  has  degraded  her  ?  In  fine,  if  one 
should  give  you  this  problem  to  resolve,  which  of  the  two  has 
done  to  the  other  the  greatest  wrong — man  to  woman,  or  woman 
to  man  ?  what  would  be  your  answer  ? — Question  sad  as  diffi- 
cult !  in  the  room  of  which  I  would  propose  to  you,  on  the  con- 
trary, another  :  Which  of  the  two  will  henceforth  do  the  other 
the  most  good  ?  Do  you  see  her  who,  in  meditation  before  God, 
is  seeking  to  know  henceforth  how  she  can  be  to  us  a  "  helpmeet  ?" 
Let  us  meditate,  for  her  sake,  upon  the  same  problem  at  the  feet  of 
the  same  Saviour  !  Most  truly  are  the  principles  the  same,  the 
applications  alone  vary.  Humility,  charity — if  we  abandon  them 
to  woman,  ah  I  what  will  remain  to  us  ourselves  ?  Humility, 
charity — was  the  man  Christ  Jesus  auytliing  else  ?  With  a  god- 
ly jealousy,  one  of  the  other,  let  the  humility  and  charity  of  the 
woman  aid  the  man  ;  let  the  humility  and  charity  of  the  man  aid 
the  woman,  looking  forward  to  the  time  when,  beneath  purer 
heavens  and  upon  a  regenerated  earth,  the  humility  and  charity 
of  the  elect  of  God,  in  whom  all  eai-thly  difference  shall  be  for- 
gotten, shall  glorify  from  age  to  age  this  Saviour  God,  doubly 
our  Father,  having  created  us  in  a  day  of  love  and  saved  us  in  a 
day  of  grace  1 


DISCOURSE   III. 

THE     LOVER     OF     MONEY. 

*'  Take  heed  and  beware  of  Covetousness." 

Luke,  xii.  15. 

In  the  warning  which  the  Lord  gives  to  his  disciples  in  our 
text,  there  is  something  deep  and  solemn  which  claims  no  ordi- 
nary attention.  We  feel  that  it  is  his  desire  to  put  them  upon 
their  guard  against  certain  illusions  full  of  peril.  What  are 
these  illusions  ?  We  believe  the  three  principal  to  be,  deception 
as  to  the  nature  of  covetousness  ;  deception  as  to  God's  judg- 
ment concerning  it ;  and,  finally,  deception  as  to  the  empire 
which  it  holds  among  men.  A  plan  of  meditation  is  thus  fur- 
nished for  the  present  occasion  ;  and  we  shall  endeavor  to  show 
what  covetousness  is,  how  great  is  its  criminality,  and  how  gener- 
ally it  prevails. 

I,  Covetousness. — ^We  are  deceived  in  regard  to  the  nature 
of  Covetousness  ;  and  the  fault  is  to  be  attributed  less  to  om'- 
selves,  than  to  our  language  which  does  not  perfectly  agree  with 
that  of  Scripture.  It  is  usual  to  call  a  man  covetous  who,  loving 
money  for  its  own  sake,  thinks  only  of  amassing  it,  without 
making  it  the  means  of  enjoyment  to  others,  or  even  to  himself. 
Is  it  astonishing,  then,  if,  being  habituated  from  infancy,  to  this 
mode  of  speaking,  we  should  regard  it  as  the  language  also  of 
the  Scripture,  and  if  we  should  believe  involuntarily  that  the 
Scripture  condemns  in  the  covetous  man  only  that  which  the 


84:  ADOLPHE   MOXOD. 

world  itself  reproves  as  parsiinouy  ?  I  say  invcluntarUy  ;  never- 
theless we  have  a  secret  motive  for  understauding  it  thus.  For 
this  kind  of  covetousness  being  fortunately  somewhat  rare,  and 
not  easily  charged  upon  most  of  us,  we  regard  the  language  of 
Scripture  as  not  meant  for  us,  and  have  the  satisfaction  of  being 
able  to  say  :  I  am  not  the  man.  But  be  upon  your  guard  ; 
you  are  placing  your  reliance  upon  a  word,  and  upon  a  word  ill 
understood.  The  covetous  man  of  our  language  is  one  person, 
and  the  covetous  man  of  the  Bible  is  another.  Far  from  confin- 
ing this  appellation  to  the  sordid  hoarder,  the  Bible  scarcely 
mentions  him.  In  Holy  Writ  you  will  not  find  a  single  descrip- 
tion of  him  ;  he  appears  only  in  apocryphal  writings,  upon  the 
pages  of  profane  authors  ;  and  it  is  here  alone  that  you  must 
look  for  him.  Doubtless,  the  Almighty  foresaw  that  human 
reason  would  do  justice  to  a  sin  so  grave,  a  folly,  at  least,  so 
crying.  This  kind  of  covetousness  is  a  scandal,  a  madness,  a 
disease.  The  world  has  suffered  too  much  from  its  effects  to 
tolerate  it  ;  and,  accordingly,  those  polluted  by  it  are  treated 
more  severely  than  libertines  or  reprobates. 

The  covetousness  against  which  our  Lord  warns  us,  is  quite 
another  thing.  Judge  concerning  it,  either  by  the  circumstance 
which  furnished  to  him  an  occasion  to  give  this  warning,  or  by 
the  parable  wherein  he  cites  an  example  of  it.  A  certain  man 
had  just  said  to  our  Lord  :  "  Master,  speak  to  my  brother,  that 
he  divide  the  inheritance  with  me."  What  mark  of  covetous- 
ness could  there  be  in  this  request,  if  the  name  of  covetousness 
were  given  only  to  a  sordid  parsimony?  And  again,  where 
would  there  be  the  covetousness  of  the  rich  man  of  the  parable, 
whom  our  Lord  represents  as  thus  speaking  to  himself :  "  I  will 
pull  down  my  barns,  and  build  greater  ;  and  there  will  I  bestow 
all  my  fruits  and  my  goods  ;  and  I  will  say  to  my  soul,  Soul, 
thou  has  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years  ;  take  thine  ease, 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  ?"  This  is  not  the  language  of  excessive 
meanness,  but  rather  that  of  selfish  prodigality.  Thus  the  Lord, 
applying  this  parable  to  his  disciples,  warns  them,  not  against 


THE   LOVER   OF   MONEY.  85 

parsimony,  but   against   the  cares  of  life   and   the   thirst   for 
riches. 

In  order  to  discover  the  Lord's  true  meaning  of  covetousness, 
it  is  only  necessary  to  recur  to  the  original  text  ;  a  precaution 
which  the  interpreters  of  the  Scriptures  cannot  too  carefully 
observe,  and  which  is  often  more  profitable  than  much  research. 
There  are  three  words  in  the  Bible  which  in  our  versions  are 
rendered  by  the  words  Covetous  or  Covetousness.  The  first  signi- 
fies a  man  greedy  of  gain,  and  not  very  scrupulous  in  general,  as 
to  the  means  of  getting  it.  The  second  signifies  properly  a  man 
who  always  desires  to  have  more  ;  and  t-his  is  the  word  employed  in 
our  text.  The  last  signifies  simply  a  lover  of  mon^y.  Thus  when 
in  our  translation  of  the  Bible  we  read,  "  And  the  Pharisees 
also  who  were  covetous  derided  him:"  (Luke  xvi.  14),  "A 
bishop  must  not  be  covetous  :"  (1  Tim.  iii.  3.),*  "Let  your  con- 
versation be  without  covetousness  : "  (Heb.  xiii.  5.),  we  read  in 
the  original,  "  And  the  Pharisees  who  were  lovers  of  money  derided 
him  :"  "A  bishop  must  not  be  a  lover  of  money  :"  "  Let  your  con- 
versation be  without  the  love  of  money ^  So  again,  in  that 
hideous  picture  which  St.  Paul  has  drawn  of  the  last  days  (2 
Tim.  iii.  2-4),  the  following  traits,  "  Lovers  of  their  own 
selves,"  ^^  covetous, ^^  "  lovers  of  pleasures  more  than  lovers  of  God," 
answer  to  difi'erent  Greek  words  which  signify  literally  friends 
of  self,  friends  of  money,  friends  of  pleasures,  more  than  friends 
of  God.  See,  then,  how  the  Bible  itself  enlightens  us  as  to 
what  is  meant  by  covetous.  A  covetous  man  is  a  friend  of 
money  ;  covetousness  is  the  love  of  money.  Everything  is  now 
explained  in  our  text.  This  man  who  wished  Jesus  to  compel 
his  brother  to  divide  with  him  the  inheritance,  was  a  covetous 
man,  a  lover  of  money  ;  or  he  would  not  have  interrupted  the 
"words  of  Eternal  life"  which  were  issuing  from  the  Saviour's 
mouth,  in  order  to  promote  his  petty  interests.  The  rich  man 
of  the  parable  was  a  covetous  man  ;  or  he  would  have  been  less 
desirous  of  heaping  up  worldly  goods  for  himself,  than  of  being 
rich  in  God.     The  disciples,  in  their  turn,  might  have  sinned 


86  ADOLPHE    MONOD. 

through  covetousness,  through  the  love  of  money,  if  they  had 
abandoned  themselves  to  anxiety,  or  if  they  had  sought  their 
treasure  here  below. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add,  that  the  lover  of  money,  such 
as  the  Bible  speaks  of,  is  a  man  who  loves  money  to  excess,  as 
the  lover  of  pleasure  is  a  man  whom  the  love  of  pleasure 
engrosses.  Money  has  a  real  value,  which  the  wise  man  cannot 
misunderstand.  Such  is  the  condition  of  human  society,  that 
money  is  to  it  the  key  of  all  enjoyments,  and  of  all  advantages. 
Money  is  a  condensed  world.  He  vvho  is  the  possessor  of  money,' 
holds  in  his  coffers  all  that  his  eyes  can  desire  ;  lauds,  houses, 
food,  and  drink,  the  means  of  diverting  as  well  as  of  instructing 
himself,  and  even  the  power  of  securing  the  favor  of  his  fellow 
men.  This  law  is  in  nature,  and  we  are  so  much  the  less  able 
to  find  fault  with  it,  as  it  has  for  its  authority  the  word  of 
God.  "  Wisdom  is  good  with  an  inheritance  (or  as  good  as  an 
inheritance)  ;  for  wisdom  is  a  defence,  and  money  is  a  defence." 
(Eccl.  vii.  11,  12.)  ''A  feast  is  made  for  laughter,  and  wine 
maketh  merry  ;  but  money  answereth  all  things." — (x.  19.)  It 
answers  not  only  our  comfort,  but  also  our  imperious  wants, 
our  sacred  obligations.  To  desire  it  is  a  thing  as  innocent  as 
the  act  of  breathing  ;  but,  from  a  legitimate  attachment  for  it, 
to  an  extreme  attachment,  the  passage  is  short  and  slippery. 

In  observing  the  irresistible  power  with  which  money  draws 
everything  to  itself,  we  are  inclined  to  yield  to  the  temptation 
to  pursue  it  as  the  chief  good,  and  whatever  love  the  heart  may 
possess  for  the  world,  is  concentrated  and  hidden  in  the  love  of 
money.  We  begin  by  loving  it  for  the  advantages  which  it  pro- 
cures, and  then  learn  insensibly  to  love  it  for  itself,  or,  if  you 
choose,  for  the  unforeseen  uses  to  which  we  fancy  it  may  be 
applied  at  some  future  time,  which  we  shall,  perhaps,  never  see. 
We  may  avoid  certain  extremes,  and  escape  the  charge  of 
covetousness,.  but,  at  the  same  time  we  may  be  none  the  less 
governed  by  a  thirst  for  riches  ;  for  thereupon  the  heart  may 
be  fixed,     Covetousness  is  communicated  like  a  contagious  dis 


THE   LOVER   OF   MONEY.  87 

ease  ;  men  nourish  it,  and,  even  without  speaking,  their  very 
looks  seem  to  say  :  "  Taste,  and  see  how  good  nwniy  is."  Thus, 
by  degrees,  is  formed  and  developed  a  love  of  money  which 
goes  beyond  all  bounds,  which  subjects  piety,  instead  of  suffering 
itself  to  be  governed  thereby,  and  which  makes  of  him  who 
possesses  it,  according  to  an  expression  of  our  Lord,  "  A  servant 
of  mammon." 

This  love  of  money  takes  different  forms,  and  changes  its 
name  before  men,  without  being  in  any  wise  changed  before 
God,  who  regards  the  heart.  One  loves  money  for  the  sake  of 
keeping  it ;  this  is  the  miser,  properly  called  ;  the  covetous  man, 
according  to  the  world.  He  knows,  perhaps,  how  to  avoid 
certain  appearances,  in  order  to  escape  this  shameful  title  ;  but 
we  are  sure  that  to  separate  him  from  his  treasures,  would  be  to 
tear  from  him  a  part  of  his  being,  and  he  would  willingly  say  of 
money  what  God  has  said  of  the  blood  :  "  Money  is  hfe."  Cove- 
tous persons  of  this  character  are  not  so  rare  as  we  imagine,  but 
they  conceal  with  skill,  and  often  the  secret  of  their  parsimony 
is  known  only  after  their  death.  Another  loves  money  for  the 
sake  of  spending  it  ;  this  is  a  prodigal  covetous  man.  For  one 
may  be  at  the  same  time  covetous  and  prodigal  ;  not,  certainly, 
in  accordance  with  our  idiom,  but  in  accordance  with  the  Bible. 
The  prodigal  must  necessarily  be  the  lover  of  money,  because 
it  is  more  needful  to  him  than  to  others.  These  two  disposi- 
tions, far  from  excluding  one  another,  mutually  encourage  ;  pro- 
digality keeping  the  love  of  money  always  in  exercise,  and  the 
love  of  money  providing  prodigality  with  its  daily  bread.  Thus, 
a  historian,  well  acquainted  with  human  nature,  described  a 
great  criminal  by  these  two  traits  :  "  Covetous  of  the  goods  of 
others,  and  prodigal  of  his  own."  A  third  loves  money  for  the 
sake  of  acquiring  it ;  this  is  the  ambitiously  covetous  man.  It  is  not 
the  desire  of  hoarding  that  governs  him  ;  it  is  not  even  that  of 
spending  ;  but  the  pleasure  of  his  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  his 
heart  is  to  see  streams  of  gold  flowing  from  his  hands. 

Of  these  three  forms  of  cupidity,  parsimonious  cupidity  is  more 


88  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

especially  the  vice  of  old  age,  prodigal  cupidity  is  that  of  3'outh, 
and  ambitious  cupidity  is  that  of  mature  age.  In  other  respects, 
covetousness  is  found  in  all  conditions  of  life.  A  rich  man,  who 
makes  his  happiness  depend  upon  his  fortune,  and  who  desires 
constantly  to  add  thereto,  "  less  rich  on  account  of  what  he 
possesses  than  poor  on  account  of  what  he  has  not,"  is  the  lover 
of  money  ;  is  a  covetous  man.  But  a  poor  man  is  not  the  less  so, 
if  he  cannot  be  contented  in  the  condition  in  which  God  has 
placed  him,  and  if  his  heart  runs  after  fortune  as  the  chief  good. 
In  point  of  fact,  these  two  men  are  the  same  ;  and  we  can  easily 
beheve  that  if  one  of  them  should  succeed  the  other  in  position, 
he  would  succeed  him  also  in  sentiment.  In  a  single  word, 
covetousness  is  cupidity  under  all  possible  forms,  and  in  all 
situations  ;  it  is  selfishness  applied  to  money. 

If  covetousness,  as  we  have  been  accustomed  to  understand 
it,  is  not  uncommon,  all  will  agree  that  covetousness  such  as  we 
have  just  seen  it  defined  by  the  Bible,  is  much  more  so.  But  is 
it  then  so  culpable  ?  And  whence  then  comes  this  so  earnest 
exhortation :  "  Take  heed,  and  beware  of  covetousness  ?" 

II,  The  Criminality  of  Covetousness. — "VVe  deceive  our- 
selves as  to  God's  judgment  concerning  covetousness.  We 
believe  ourselves  free,  after  all,  to  enrich  ourselves  as  much  as 
we  can,  and  to  do  afterwards  as  we  wish  with  our  wealth. 
Thereupon,  we  give  ourselves  up  to  covetousness.  We  would 
not  give  ourselves  up  to  intemperance,  or  to  robbery.  But 
covetousness  seems  to  be  regarded  as  a  sin  of  quite  a  different 
character.  While  the  former  vices  are  shameful  and  shocking 
to  the  feelings  ;  while  they  are  attended  by  disorders  that  dis- 
turb the  repose  of  society,  and  the  peace  of  families,  covetous- 
ness seems  to  be  a  sort  of  prudence  and  attention  to  one's  duties. 
It  dreads  noise  and  scandal  ;  it  is  generally  creditable  in  its 
appearance,  estimable  even  according  to  the  world,  which 
cheerfully  gives  to  it  the  names  of  generous  ambition,  useful 
industry,  or  praiseworthy  economy,     I  will  grant  to  it  more  than 


TILE   LOVER   OF   MONET.  89 

this  ;  the  covetous  man  may  have  religious  habits,  may  give  an 
example  of  respect  for  religion,  and  for  the  Word  of  God. 
"  The  love  of  money,"  says  a  Christian  thinker,  "is  almost  the 
only  vice  to  which  a  person  may  yield  himself,  and  still  preserve 
the  appearance  of  piety.  But  do  you  know  what  will  be  the 
consequence  of  this  sin?  Listen,  then.  There  is  every  reason 
to  believe  that  of  all  sins,  it  is  the  very  one  that  will  destroy  the 
greatest  number  of  persons  who  profess  to  serve  the  Lord." 
For,  as  Jesus  Christ  said  to  the  Pharisee^  :  "  That  which  is 
highly  esteemed  among  men,  is  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of 
God." — (Luke  xvi.  15.)  Eeflect  seriously  upon  these  words. 
They  refer  directly  to  our  subject.  Jesus  Christ  had  just  ex- 
plained, by  the  parable  of  the  unfaithful  steward,  the  use  which 
a  pious  man  ought  to  make  of  riches  ;  he  had  closed  by  declar- 
ing, that  no  one  can  love  God,  if  he  is  carried  away  by  the  love 
of  money.  "And  the  Pharisees,  also,  who  were  covetous,"  and 
who  were,  nevertheless,  regarded  as  models  of  devotion,  "  heard 
all  these  things,  and  they  derided  him."  Then  it  was  that  the 
Saviour  gave  them  this  solemn  warning  :  "Ye  are  they  which 
justify  yourselves  before  men  ;  but  God  knoweth  your  hearts  ; 
for  that  which  is  highly  esteemed  among  men,  is  an  abomination 
in  the  sight  of  God." 

Thus,  whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  the  world,  the  virtue 
and  piety  of  the  lover  of  money  are,  according  to  Jesus  Christ, 
only  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  God.  And  why  ?  Because 
God  knows  the  heart.  Under  these  creditable  appearances, 
under  this  religious  cloak,  he  discovers  in  the  heart  of  the  covet- 
ous man  an  abyss  of  iniquity.  What,  in  fact,  is  the  love  of 
money,  except  a  dethronement  of  God,  and  a  setting  up  of 
Mammon  in  His  place  ?  The  covetous  man  loves  Mammon,  as  he 
ought  to  love  God,  "  with  all  his  heart,  with  all  his  soul,  with 
all  his  mind,  and  with  all  his  strength."  He  does  more  •  he 
confides  in  Mammon,  instead  of  relying  upon  the  Almighty. 
While  the  true  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ  "  trusts  not  in  uncertain 
riches,  but  in  the  living  of  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all  things 


90  AJDOLPHE   MOKOD. 

to  enjoy,"  the  covetous  man  esteems  himself  happy  in  his  gains  ; 
"  he  has  made  gold  his  hope,"  and  said  to  the  fine  gold,  "  Thou 
art  my  confidence."  It  is  for  this  that  the  Holy  Spirit  calls  the 
covetous  man,  "an  idolator"  (Eph.  v.  5),  and  covetousness, 
*' idolatry." — (Col.  iii.  5.)  Thus,  our  Lord  declares  the  love  of 
money  absolutely  incompatible  with  the  love  of  God.  "  No  man 
can  serve  two-masters,"  said  He  upon  more  than  one  occasion, 
"  for  either  he  will  hate  the  one,  and  love  the  other  ;  or  else  he 
will  hold  to  the  one,  and  despise  the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve 
God  and  Mammon." 

This  incompatibility  is  so  true,  that  it  is  betrayed  by  the  ex- 
cuses of  the  lover  of  money  ;  he  can  justify  his  covetousness  only 
by  giving  it  to  be  understood  that  he  has  renounced  the  faith. 
"  My  fortune  is  my  own  ;  I  am  at  liberty  to  do  with  it  as  I  please." 
Your  fortune  your  own  I  you  can  do  with  it  as  you  please  1 
Have  you  then  renounced  the  Master  who  redeemed  you? 
Does  not  all  that  you  possess  belong  to  Jesus  Christ  ?  Do  not 
you  yourself  belong  to  him  ?  If  neither  your  body,  nor  your 
mind  belong  to  yourself  (1  Cor.  vi.  19-20 j;  if  for  the  sake  of 
Christ  you  ought  to  abandon  your  father  and  your  mother,  your 
wife,  and  your  children,  and  even  your  own  life  (Luke,  xiv.  26) ;  is 
your  money  so  sacred  that  it  alone  must  be  excepted  from  this 
universal  sacrifice  ?  Your  fortune  your  own  I  At  liberty  to  do 
with  it  as  you  please  I  And  why  may  not  another  say:  My  mind 
is  my  own  ;  I  am  at  liberty  to  apply  it  to  thoughts  which  may 
pervert  it,  or  to  causes  which  may  corrupt  it  ?  Or  a  third  say  : 
My  body  is  my  own,  and  I  am  at  liberty  to  yield  my  "  members 
servants  to  uncleanliness  and  to  iniquity  unto  iniquity."  No  I 
Bays  the  Apostle,  for  "  your  bodies  are  the  members  of  Christ" 
(1  Cor.  vi.  15);  and  I  say  in  imitation  of  him  :  No  !  for  your  for- 
tune is  the  treasure  of  Christ.  He  is  its  true  possessor  ;  you  are 
only  his  steward,  and  you  are  bound  to  use  it  only  in  his  service. 
He  who  does  otherwise  is  unfaithful,  according  to  the  judgment 
of  our  Saviour  (Luke  xvi.  12)  ;  quite  as  unfaithful  as  the 
steward  of  the  parable,  who  wasted  the  goods  committed  to  his 


THE   LOVER   OF   MONET.  91 

care.  Your  fortune  your  own  I  At  liberty  to  do  with  it  as  you 
please  !  Take  care.  There  is  but  one  way  in  which  you  can 
legalize  this  pretension,  and  that  is  to  break  with  Jesus  Christ. 
It  does  not  rest  with  you  to  make  the  conditions  of  your  alliance 
with  him  ;  he  has  made  them,  and  you  will  find  them  written  in 
St.  Luke,  xiv.  33  :  "  So  likewise,  whosoever  he  be  of  you  that 
forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  Under 
no  circumstances  can  you  serve  God  and  Mammon,  The  love 
of  money  is  a  separation  of  the  heart  from  the  Saviour,  an 
idolatry,  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  God. 

As  is  the  tree,  so  is  the  fruit.  You  have  just  witnessed  the 
love  of  money  in  the  heart ;  now  observe  the  w^orks  which  it 
produces.  "  The  love  of  money,"  says  the  Holy  Spirit,  '*  is  the 
root  of  all  evil." — (1  Tim.  vi.  10.)  If  we  were  to  treat  this  sub- 
ject in  its  whole  extent,  we  should  have  material  for  a  book, 
instead  of  a  discourse  ;  let  us  confine  ourselves  to  what  covet- 
ousness  has  done,  at  all  times,  against  the  advancement  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  in  the  world. 

I  open  the  Old  Testament,  and  amid  that  multitude  of  crimes 
by  which  men  have  thwarted,  as  much  as  they  could,  the  plans 
of  God  for  the  salvation  of  the  nations,  I  find  many,  and  they 
of  the  blackest  character,  due  only  to  the  love  of  money. 
What  drove  Balaam  to  harden  himself  against  the  warnings  of  the 
Lord,  against  the  cries  of  his  own  conscience,  against  the  naked 
sword  of  the  angel,  against  the  miraculous  voice  of  a  stupid 
beast,  and  to  try,  by  turns,  impious  enchantments  and  infamous 
seductions  in  order  to  shut  up  to  the  chosen  people  the  road  to 
the  promised  land  ?  Tlie  love  of  money.  What  induced  Achan  to 
conceal  the  accursed  spoils,  to  disobey  the  command  of  God,  to 
brave  His  threats,  and  to  cause  His  wrath  to  fall  upon  the  vic- 
torious armies  of  Israel  ?  The  love  of  money.  What  induced 
Gehazi  to  scandalize  the  newly-born  faith  of  Naaman,  to  ren- 
der useless  the  disinterestedness  of  a  holy  prophet,  and  to  cause 
him  to  be  suspected,  perhaps  of  hypocrisy  ?  The  love  of  money. 
What  made  in  Israel  those   prevaricating  magistrates,  those 


92  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

iniquitous  judges,  those  lying  prophets  who  conducted  the  people 
of  God  only  to  lead  them  astray,  and  to  "destroy  the  way  of  his 
paths  ?"   The  love  of  money. 

Let  us  pass  to  the  New  Testament  ;  we  shall  then  see  tlie 
evil  growing  and  assuming  a  more  odious  character.  Scarcely 
had  Jesus  commenced  his  work,  than  covetousness  lifted  itself 
up  against  him  ;  it  everywhere  intruded  upon  his  path  ;  it  dis- 
puted every  step  that  he  took.  It  misunderstood  and  forsook 
him,  in  the  person  of  the  rich  young  man  ;  it  excited  his  holy 
anger  in  the  person  of  the  sellers  in  the  temple;  it  hated  him  ;  it 
railed  at  him;  it  persecuted  him  in  the  person  of  the  Pharisees  ; 
and,  in  the  person  of  Judas  it  tithed  the  fruit  of  his  charity 
for  the  poor  ;  it  begrudged  the  honor  destined  to  his  burial  ;  it 
betrayed  him,  it  delivered  him  up,  it  sold  him.  Oh,  prophetic 
crime,  which  casts  a  sad  light  upon  the  future  of  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ !  This  same  crime  of  him,  who  for  thirty  pieces  of 
silver  sold  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  is  the  very  crime 
which  will  show  itself  most  active  in  depriving  men  of  the  in- 
effable benefit  of  this  shed  blood  ;  for  it  will  oppose  equally  the 
salvation  of  the  individual,  the  fidelity  of  the  church,  and  the 
conversion  of  the  world. 

In  regard  to  the  salvation  of  the  individual.  A  man  cannot 
turn  towards  the  Lord,  but  covetousness  seems  to  waylay  him  in 
order  to  thwart  his  purpose,  and  he  is  thus  beset  from  the  mo- 
ment that  he  receives  his  first  religious  impressions,  to  the  most 
advanced  period  of  his  faith.  Is  he  simply  an  invited  guest  to 
the  great  feast  ?  Covetousness  persuades  two  invited  persons  in 
three  to  excuse  themselves  by  saying  :  "  I  have  bought  a  piece 
of  ground,"  or  "  I  have  bought  five  yoke  of  oxen." — (Luke  xiv. 
18,  19.)  Has  he  listened  to  the  truth  and  received  the  good  seed 
into  his  heart  ?  Covetousness  cultivates  thorns  beside  it  ;  soon 
"  the  cares  of  this  world,  and  the  dcceitfulness  of  riches  "  threaten 
"  to  choke  the  word,  and  he  becomcth  unfruitful." — (Matt.  xiii. 
22.)  lias  he  made  some  progress  in  the  ways  of  piety? 
Covetousness  does  not  yet  despair  of  turning  him  aside   and  of 


THE   LOVEK   OF   MONEY.  98 

adding  him  to  the  number  of  those  who,  possessed  by  the  love  of 
money,  "  have  erred  from  the  faith." — (1  Tim.  vi.  10.)  Happy 
if,  "  taking  the  whole  armor  of  God,"  he  is  "  able  to  withstand 
in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to  stand."  Happy,  if  he 
does  not  imitate  those  imprudent  travellers  whom  Bunyan 
describes  as  leaving,  at  the  invitation  of  Demas,  the  road  to  the 
holy  city  to  visit  a  silver-mine  in  the  hill  called  Lucre."  Now 
whether,"  says  Bunyan,  "  they  fell  into  the  pit  by  looking 
over  the  brink  thereof,  or  whether  they  went  down  to  dig, 
or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the  bottom  by  the 
damps  that  commonly  arise,  of  these  things  I  am  not  certain  ; 
but  this  I  observed,  that  they  were  never  seen  again  in  the 
way." 

The  love  of  money  does  not  oppose  itself  less  to  the  fidelity  of 
the  church.  Ah  I  who  does  not  know  the  history  of  the  Chris- 
tian church  ?  Who  does  not  know  the  sad  influence  that 
covetousness  has  exercised  upon  its  development,  upon  its  orga- 
nization, upon  its  discipline,  upon  its  very  doctrines  ?  Who  does 
not  know  that,  trampling  under  foot  the  maxim  of  its  founder — 
"  freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give  "^the  church  has  made  so 
much  traffic  of  the  truth  of  God,  of  His  promises  and  of  His 
threats,  of  paradise  and  of  hell,  of  holiness  and  of  sin,  that  its 
name  has  become  in  the  language  of  the  world  the  type  of 
venality  ? 

But  there  would  be  so  much  to  say  in  regard  to  the  evil 
which  the  love  of  money  has  done  in  the  church,  that  we  will 
speak  only  of  the  good  which  it  has  been  the  means  of  prevent- 
ing. The  church  was  planted  in  the  world  for  the  good  of  the 
world.  Depositories  of  eternal  life,  Christians  ought  to  commu- 
nicate it  all  around  them,  and  even  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  ;  the 
church  was  born  to  be  a  missionary  to  the  human  race.  This, 
she  understood  at  her  birth  ;  and  that  angel  of  the  Apocalypse, 
that  flew  through  the  midst  of  the  heaven  bearing  the  everlast- 
ing Gospel,  is  a  true  image  of  the  ardor  with  which  the  first 
disciples  labored  to  gain  new  kingdoms  for  Jesus  Christ.     But 


94  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

why  has  this  ardor  abated  from  century  to  century  ?  Why  has 
such  a  glorious  conquest  been  arrested  ?  Why  has  it  gone 
baclvward,  and  finally  limited  itself  to  so  small  a  portion  of  the 
globe  ?  Why  have  those  very  nations  in  the  midst  of  which 
God  first  lit  up  the  olden  faith,  been  compelled  to  ackiiowiedge, 
for  nearly  three  centuries,  their  indebtedness  to  pagan  people  ? 
Alas  !  and  why  should  that  holy  cause,  in  behalf  of  which  all 
Christianity  ought  to  be  engaged,  why  should  it  now  find  among 
us  so  many  hostile,  or,  at  least,  so  many  indifferent  hearts  ?  One 
of  the  fathers  of  the  church,  St.  Cyprien,  replies  to  these  inter- 
rogatories, and  you  shall  judge,  whether  or  not,  what  he 
wrote  in  the  third  century  of  the  Christian  era  applies  to  ours. 
'^  Every  one,"  said  the  holy  martyr,  groaning,  "  every  one 
devotes  himself  to  increasing  his  worldly  substance  ;  and  forget- 
ting what  the  faithful  did  during  the  times  of  the  Apostles,  and 
what  should  always  be  done,  Christians  cherish  an  insatiable 
desire  of  augmenting  their  fortune."  A¥here,  then,  could  be 
found  that  entire  devotion  to  the  salvation  of  men,  which  can 
alone  establish  missions,  and  those  generous  sacrifices  which  can 
sustain  them  ?  And  thus  the  work  became  abandoned,  or 
at  least  neglected  ;  and  what  a  work,  oh,  my  God  !  The  world 
was  perishing  of  hunger,  hunger  for  the  word  of  God.  The 
compassion  of  God  was  moved.  The  message  of  grace  was 
ready.  The  church  was  charged  to  bear  it  through  every  land, 
and  not  to  rest  so  long  as  there  should  remain  upon  the  earth  a 
single  nation,  family,  or  man,  to  whom  the  glad  tidings  had  not 
been  carried.  The  church,  for  a  time,  was  faithful  ;  but  the 
spirit  of  the  age  returned  and  paralyzed  its  activity.  Is  the  evil 
now  less  pressing  ?  No.  But  the  church  has  other  cares  ;  like 
the  world,  it  is  occupied  in  buying,  in  selling,  and  in  getting 
gain.  Its  devotion  to  Mammon  will  not  allow  it  to  be  faithful 
to  the  Lord. 

The  covetousness  of  the  church  engenders  still  another  evil. 
Not  contented  with  preventing  the  church  from  evangelizing  the 
world,  it  scandalizes  'the  world  through  the  church.     Judge  in 


THE   LOVER   OF   MONEY.  96 

regard  to  this,  my  brethren.  Let  the  man  of  the  world  give  his 
heart  to  money,  which  is  the  key  of  the  world  ;  it  is  precisely 
what  must  be  expected  :  but  you,  Christians,  believing  the  Gos- 
pel, have,  without  doubt,  adopted  its  spirit  :  it  is  in  heaven  that 
you  lay  up  your  treasure.  And  seeking  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,  and  his  righteousness,  everything  else  touches  you  feebly  in 
comparison  with  the  one  thing  needful.  Oh  I  if  the  detachment 
from  earth,  taught  by  your  maxims,  had  exhibited  itself  in  your 
lives  !  Would  not  your  example  have  excited  among  men 
a  holy  emulation  similar  to  that  with  which  the  faith  of  the 
martyrs  formerly  inspired  the  pagans  ?  And  would  not  the 
world,  in  seeing  you  make  a  sacrifice  of  its  vanities,  have  con- 
fessed that  God  is  truly  among  you  ?  But  what  is  the  real  state 
of  things  ?  The  world  has  heard  you  conversing  like  Christians, 
and  seen  you  acting  like  itself.  It  has  seen  you  quite  as  much 
attached  to  money  as  others,  quite  as  eager  to  acquire  it,  quite 
as  slow  in  detaching  yourselves  from  it.  And  what  do  you  wish 
the  world  to  think,  I  do  not  mean  of  yourselves,  that  would  be 
an  unimportant  matter,  but  of  the  Gospel  ?  Has  not,  then,  that 
Gospel,  with  all  its  precepts  and  all  its  promises,  no  more  power 
to  detach  your  hearts  from  worldly  things,  than  the  lessons  of 
j)hilosophy  ?  Faith,  grace,  regeneration,  all  are  suspected  of  impo- 
tency  ;  "  the  salt  has  lost  its  savor."  So  true  is  it  that  the 
love  of  money  makes  war  against  the  works  of  Christ,  as  it  has 
made  war  against  Christ  himself :  seducing  the  individual,  cor- 
rupting the  church,  and  scandalizing  the  world. 

Now  behold  what  damnation  God  has  in  store  for  the  covetous 
man.  Its  visitation  upon  him  commences  even  during  the  pre- 
sent life.  He  punishes  himself,  indeed,  by  his  iniquity  itself :  no 
one  can  be  more  miserable  than  a  covetous  man.  Solomon 
exhibits  the  lover  of  money  as  unable  to  satisfy  himself  there- 
with, his  cares  increasing  with  his  fortune,  every  one  enjoying 
his  good,  except  himself,  sleep  flying  from  his  eyes,  and  "all  his 
days  eating  darkness,  and  having  sorrow  and  wrath  with  his 
sickuess." — (Eccles.  v    10-17.)      Saint  Paul,  in  his  turn,  has 


86.  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

shown  the  covetous  man  as  "  pierced  through  with  many  sor- 
rows" (1  Tim.  vi.  10)  ;  and  our  Lord  tells  us  in  the  simple  but 
expressive  words  which  follow  our  text :  "A  man's  life  consist- 
cth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he  possesseth." 
And  if  anything  is  wanting  to  this  punishment  which  the  lover 
of  money,  with  his  own  hands,  inflicts  upon  himself,  divine  jus- 
tice makes  up  the  deficiency.  The  mercenary  Balaam  having 
failed  of  a  recompense,  perished  by  the  edge  of  the  sword.  The 
covetous  Achan,  troubled  by  the  Almighty,  for  having  troubled 
His  people,  was  stoned  to  death  with  all  his  family,  and  even  the 
treasures  that  had  tempted  him  were  destroyed.  The  faithless 
Gehazi  carried  into  his  own  house  the  leprosy  of  Naaman  as  well 
as  his  presents,  and  thus  transmitted  to  his  posterity  the  double 
heritage  of  a  fortune  and  a  scourge.  And  Judas,  the  perfidious 
Judas,  devoured  by  remorse,  alas  !  but  not  touched  with  repent- 
ance, casts  his  money  into  the  temple,  gives  himself  to  two 
deaths  at  once,  carries  upon  his  mutilated  body  the  seal  of  divine 
vengeance,  and  goes  "  to  his  own  place." 

To  what  place  ?  What  is  the  eternal  portion  of  the  covetous 
man  ?  You  think  that  covetousness  is  only  one  of  those  infirmities 
that  God  tolerates  among  his  children  ;  but  you  must  learn  from 
God  himself  that  it  is  one  of  those  sins  that  exclude  the  offender 
from  his  kingdom.  You  would  charge  us  with  exaggeration  and 
injustice  if  we  were  to  place  the  covetous  man  in  the  same  rank 
with  the  drunkard  and  the  extortioner  :  but  learn  that  God 
associates  the  covetous  man,  I  mean  the  covetous  man  of  the 
Bible,  the  lover  of  money,  God,  I  say,  associates  him  with  the 
drunkard,  with  the  extortioner,  and  with  even  greater  criminals. 

Open  the  Scriptures,  and  examine  those  frightful  lists  of  the 
most  detestable  sins  ;  you  will  find  scarcely  one  in  which  the 
covetous  man  has  been  forgotten.  We  see  covetousness  enumer- 
ated among  the  sins  which  characterize  the  apostasy  foretold  of 
the  last  times  :  "  For  men  shall  be  lovers  of  their  own  selves, 
covetous,  boasters,  proud,  blasphemers,  disobedient  to  parents, 
unthankful,  unholy,  without   natural   affection,    truce-breakers, 


THE   LOVER   OF   MONEY.  97 

false  accusers,  incontinent,  fierce,  despisers  of  those  that  are 
good,  traitors,  beady,  high-minded,  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than 
lovers  of  God  ;  having  a  form  of  godliness,  but  denying  the 
power  thereof." — (2  Tim.  iii.  2-5.)  When  Saint  Jude,  describing 
the  false  teachers  who  seduced  the  church,  assembles  in  a  single 
verse  the  three  most  culpable  that  ever  lived  upon  the  earth, 
the  covetous  Balaam  figures  between  the  murderer  Cain  and  the 
rebel  Korah. — (Jude  11.)  When  Saint  Paul  collects  in  a  hideous 
picture  the  vices  that  prevailed  among  the  heathen,  covetousness 
is  named  among  the  first. — (Rom.  i.  29.)  The  covetous  man  is 
an  offender  that  should  not  be  tolerated  in  the  church,  and  with 
whom  the  faithful  should  hold  no  intercourse,  however  great  may 
be  bis  professions  of  piety.  "  If  any  mon  that  is  called  a  brother, 
be  a  fornicator,  or  covetous,  or  an  idolater,  or  a  railcr,  or  a 
drunkard,  or  an  extortioner  ;  with  such  a  one,  no  not  to  eat." 
— (1  Cor.  V.  11.)  Finally  the  covetous  man  appears  upon  that 
shameful  catalogue,  wherein  the  Holy  Spirit  designates  to  the 
Church  Universal  those  who  are  farthest  removed  from  God  and 
from  his  kingdom.  "  Know  ye  not  that  the  unrighteous  shall 
not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  Be  not  deceived  ;  neither 
fornicators,  nor  idolaters,  nor  adulterers,  nor  effeminate,  nor 
abusers  of  themselves  with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous, 
nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God."— (1  Cor.  vi.  9-10.) 

Behold,  now,  the  covetous  man,  the  lover  of  money,  who 
passes,  perhaps,  in  the  world  for  a  moral  man,  for  a  religious 
man,  behold  him  advancing  in  the  centre  of  the  most  infamous 
company  that  ever  existed,  giving  his  right  hand  to  the  drunk- 
ard, and  his  left  to  the  thief,  with  the  adulterer  (not  to  repeat 
names  still  more  odious)  with  the  adulterer  before  him,  and  the 
extortioner  behind  him  !  Is  he  journeying  on  towards  the  king- 
dom of  God  ?  No,  he  is  marching  towards  the  place  of  the 
thief  and  the  drunkard  ;  towards  the  place  of  the  extortioner 
and  the  adulterer  ;  towards  the  place  of  the  traitor  Judas  ; 
towards  the  place  of  Satan  and  his  angels.     Let  the  covetous 

5 


98  ADOLPHE   MONOB. 

man  cease  from  blindmg  himself,  at  least  let  him  know  what 
he  is  doing  and  where  he  is  going.  Let  him  not  flatter  himself 
that  the  door  is  open  to  him,  if  he  dies  such  as  he  is  ;  it  will 
open  to  him  only  when  it  shall  open  to  the  drunkard  and  the 
adulterer,  whose  hands. knock  thereat  simultaneously  with  his 
own  I 

And  if  your  soul  were  to  be  demanded  this  very  night ! — 0 
Lord,  preserve  us  from  covetousness  !  Are  we  in  danger  of  fall- 
ing into  it  ?  Would  we  have  lived  in  it  ?  Would  we  live  in  it 
still  ?  Enlighten  me,  0  Lord,  and  let  me  not  be  of  the  number 
of  those  insensates  '*  who  flatter  themselves  in  their  own  eyes, 
until  their  iniquity  be  found  to  be  hateful." 

III.  The  Prevalence  of  Covetousness. — We  are  deceived 
in  regard  to  the  empire  which  covetousness  holds  among  men. 
There  is,  perhaps,  no  sin  more  ignored  by  those  who  give  them- 
selves up  to  it  than  covetousness.  "  No  one  confesses  the  sin  of 
covetousness,''  said  a  pious  bishop,  who  had  Jong  officiated  at  the 
confessional.  The  drunkard  or  the  adulterer  cannot  conceal  his 
infractions  of  the  law  of  God  ;  the  proud  man,  even,  or  the 
vindictive  can  perceive  and  condemn  the  passions  w^hich  govern 
him  ;  but  the  covetous  man  scarcely  ever  knows  himself.  The 
object  desired  by  the  drunkard  and  the  adulterer  being  bad  in 
itself,  they  are  treated  as  open  enemies.  It  is  not  so  with  the 
love  of  money.  Money  is  good  in  itself ;  money  is  necessary  for 
the  preservation  of  life  ;  money  is  useful  even  in  doing  good. 
Beyond  this,  what  ready  excuses  have  you  for  acquiring  it? 
Well,  we  refer  you  to  your  conscience  ;  but,  let  it  be  understood, 
to  a  conscience  fair  and  enlightened.  We  wish  simply  to  pro- 
pound to  you  a  few  questions,  upon  which  we  leave  to  you  the 
care  of  examining  yourselves  before  God.  They  will  bear  upon 
three  points  :  the  means  which  you  employ  in  order  to  acquire 
money,  the  ardor  with  which  you  seek  it,  and  the  use  which  you 
make  of  it. 

Are  the  means  which  you  employ  to  gain  money  always  honest  ? 


THE    LOVEK    OF    MONEY.  99 

Do  not  be  offended  by  this  question  ;  I  do  not  speak  of  those 
means  that  lead  to  the  galleys  or  to  the  prison  ;  but  as  exempt 
from  crime,  are  yours  always  legitimate  in  the  sight  of  men,  and 
especially  before  God  ?  Is  there  no  one  among  you  who  lends 
money  at  an  interest  which  the  laws  of  the  country,  as  well  as 
charity,  forbid  ?  In  your  business  transactions  are  there  no 
secrets  which  you  would  blush  to  see  revealed  ?  Is  fraud  abso- 
lutely unknown  in  your  affairs  ?  Have  you  no  false  weights,  no 
false  measures,  no  false  samples,  no  false  charges  of  expense, 
nothing,  in  short,  that  is  false  ?  Is  falsehood  banished  from  your 
transactions  ?  Have  you  never  promised  what  you  could  not 
perform,  nor  deceived  a  buyer  as  to  the  quality  of  your  merchan- 
dise, or  as  to  its  value,  or  as  to  the  place  whence  it  came  ?  Do 
you  never  demand  for  what  you  sell  an  excessive  price,  and  one 
which  the  chances  of  commerce  cannot  justify  ?  Do  you  never 
abuse  the  position  or  the  ignorance  of  those  with  whom  you 
have  to  do,  in  order  to  impose  upon  them  onerous  conditions, 
and  such  as  you  yourself  would  not  accept  ?  Has  the  love  of 
gain  never  prompted  you  to  retain  some  ofQce  or  receive  some 
commission  which  your  conscience  disapproved  ?  Have  you  never 
risked  the  property  of  others  in  hazardous  speculations  ?  Have 
you  never  enjoyed  the  fruit  of  wrongs  committed  by  others,  or 
refused  to  restore  what  you  justly  owed,  but  what  the  law  could 
not  ccrmpel  you  to  pay?  Have  you  never  resorted  to  harsh 
means  in  collecting  wdiat  was  due  to  yourself,  forgetful  of  that 
touching  recommendation  of  God  to  Moses  :  "If  thou  at  all 
take  thy  neighbor's  raiment  to  pledge,  thou  shalt  deliver  it  unto 
him  by  that  the  sun  goeth  down  :  for  that  is  his  covering  only, 
it  is  his  raiment  for  the  skin  ;  wherein  shall  he  sleep  ?"  Do  you 
never,  in  order  to  increase  your  fortune  or  to  preserve  it,  engage 
in  divisions,  family  quarrels,  lawsuits,  which  would  not  have  been 
found  to  be  unavoidable  if  you  had  remembered  this  passage  of 
Scripture  :  "  There  is  utterly  a  fault  among  you,  because  ye  go 
to  law  one  with  another.  Why  do  ye  not  rather  take  wrong  ?'' 
Finally,  if  you  are  entirely  innocent  of  all  these  bad  practices, 


100  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

is  there  not  one  of  them  to  which  you  would  not  have  resorted 
if  you  had  not  been  restrained  by  the  terrors  of  the  law  or  by 
the  fear  of  opinion  ?  Examine  your  hearts.  I  do  not  pretend 
to  judge  you  ;  I  wish  simply  to  aid  you  in  judging  yourselves, 
before  your  own  consciences  and  before  God. 

I  admit  that  your  wealth  may  have  been  fairly  acquired.  Honesty 
does  not  preclude  covetousness.  Here,  for  instance,  is  a  inan 
who  becomes  rich  by  the  cultivation  of  his  fields  ;  what  revenue 
could  be  more  honest  ?  Here  is  another  who  becomes  so,  by 
receiving  his  share  of  the  paternal  heritage  ;  and  what,  again, 
could  be  more  legitimate  ?  Jesus  Christ  does  not,  on  this 
account,  tax  them  the  less  with  covetousness,  because  they  both 
seek  money  with  such  ardor  that  the  things  of  God  are  not  visi- 
ble in  them.  Do  you  feel,  also,  my  dear  hearer,  this  supreme 
ardor  for  the  acquisition  of  money  !  To  make  your  fortune,  if 
you  are  poor,  or  to  increase  it  if  you  are  rich  ;  is  this  the 
thought  that  governs  your  life  ?  Is  it  this  alone  that  can 
explain  your  tastes  and  your  distastes,  what  you  do,  and  what 
you  leave  undone  ?  Do  you  find  time  for  the  exercise  of  a  lucra- 
tive profession,  while  you  find  none  'for  praying  to  God,  and  for 
reading  the  Bible  ?  If  you  should  find  it  necessary  to  labor  on 
the  Sabbath,  in  order  to  preserve  your  revenues,  what  would  you 
do  ?  And  in  case  you  have  already  decided  this  question  in 
favor  of  God's  service,  do  you  carry  into  His  house  a  heart  that 
walketh  after  gain,  and  which  says,  as  said  those  Jews  of  Amos, 
"  When  will  the  new  moon  be  gone,  that  we  may  sell  corn,  and 
the  Sabbath,  that  we  may  set  forth  wheat  ?" 

If  you  could  make  choice  between  two  careers,  the  one  bril- 
liant, but  strewed  with  temptations,  the  other  safe  for  your  soul, 
but  modest  ;  what  would  you  do  ?  Think  seriously  ;  what 
would  you  do  ?  In  reading  that  exclamation  of  our  Lord  : 
"How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  God  I"  have  you  trembled  that  you  were  rich,  or  blessed 
God  that  you  were  not  ?  Even  at  this  moment,  what  are  your 
feelings  in  listening  to  my  words  ?     Do  you  say  in  your  heart : 


THE   LOVEK   OF   MONEY.  101 

these  are  very  good  maxims  for  the  pulpit,  but  impossible  to  be 
observed  in  real  life  ?  Do  you  say  that  provided  you  could 
make*  a  fortune,  you  would  willingly  run  the  risk,  and  that  he 
who  preaches  against  the  love  of  money,  thinks  in  the  bottom  of 
his  soul  as  you  do  ?  Are  your  strongest  emotions,  your  liveliest 
joys,  your  most  bitter  regrets,  to  be  ascribed  to  the  favors  and 
the  frowns  of  fortune  ?  Does  a  trifling  gain,  a  slight  loss,  affect 
you  more  than  the  satisfaction  that  follows  a  good  work,  or  than 
the  unhappiness  that  results  from  sin  ?  Do  you  sigh  inwardly 
for  an  inheritance  ?  a  delicate  thought  which  one  fears  to  ex- 
amine ?  In  choosing  a  wife,  are  you  more  anxious  to  know  what 
she  has  than  what  she  is  ?  In  fine,  are  you  most  desirous  of 
being  a  Christian  eminent  for  piety,  or  of  being  a  man  full  of 
riches  ?  And  if  you  were  now  to  begin  to  serve  the  Lord,  as 
you  have  been  serving  Mammon,  and  to  serve  Mammon  as  you 
have  been  serving  the  Lord,  which  of  them  would  gain  by  the 
change  ?  Examine  your  heart.  I  do  not  wish  to  judge  you  ; 
I  desire  simply  to  aid  you  in  examining  yourselves. 

In  the  meantime,  I  admit  again,  no  one  observes  in  you  an 
extreme  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of  fortune  ;  but  what  use  do  you 
make  of  money  ?  I  do  not  ask  whether  you  spend  it,  but 
whether  you  spend  it  usefully.  For  my  object  is  to  aid  you  in 
discovering,  not  whether  you  are  a  miser,  but  whether  you  are  a 
lover  of  money  ;  and  you  might  be  a  great  lover  of  money, 
even  while  squandering  it  for  your  personal  advantage.  The 
wicked  rich  man  who  suffered  Lazarus  to  die  of  hunger  at  his 
door,  "  fared  sumptuously  every  day  ;"  and  the  hand  of  prodi- 
gality, open  through  vanity  or  selfishness,  is  also  as  tightly 
closed  as  that  of  parsimony  to  the  appeals  of  charity. 

Do  you  give  ?  The  Gospel  principle,  in  regard  to  alms  and 
pecuniary  contributions,  is  admirably  shown  by  St.  Paul,  when 
exhorting  the  Christians  of  Corinth  to  aid  those  of  Judea  : 
"  That  now  at  this  time  your  abundance  may  be  a  supply  for 
then*  want,  that  their  abundance  also  may  be  a  supply  for  your 
want ;  that  there  may  be  equality  :  as  it  is  written,  He  that 


102  ADOLPHE   MONOD 

hath  gathered  much  had  nothing  over  ;  and  he  that  had 
gathered  little  had  no  lack."  An  obligatory  and  absolute 
equality  is  not  alluded  to  here  ;  the  Apostles  never  preached 
this  ;  even  the  Church  at  Jerusalem  did  not  practise  it ;  and 
you  must  look  into  systems  entirely  foreign  to  Christianity,  if 
you  seek  this  beautiful  chimera,  which  has  been  falsely  attributed 
to  the  Gospel .  But,  in  distributing  unequally  the  advantages  of 
fortune,  God  has  shown  that  He  intended  that  the  superfluity  of 
some  should  supply  the  deficiency  of  others  ;  and  by  this  law  i^f 
fraternal  love,  he  determined  to  provide  for  the  wants  of  the 
latter  while  exercising  the  charity  of  the  former. 

And  now,  my  brethren,  have  you  entered  into  the  spirit  of  this 
law,  and  do  you  honor  it  by  your  example,  or  do  you  think 
yourselves  permitted  to  trample  it  under  foot  as  did  the  wicked 
rich  man  ?  Do  you  give  to  the  poor  ?  Do  you  provide  for  your 
own  kindred,  as  the  Lord  has  especially  commanded  you  in  say- 
ing :  "  If  any  provides  not  for  his  own,  he  has  denied  the  faith, 
and  is  worse  than  an  infidel  ?"  Do  you  give  to  those  charitable 
institutions  which  are  multiplying  in  our  churches,  and  which 
procure  for  those  whom  they  assist  the  bread  which  nourishes 
the  soul  as  well  as  that  which  nourishes  the  body  ?  Do 
you  give  to  those  religious  associations  which  characterize  our 
age,  and  which  propagate  in  the  world  the  knowledge  of  God 
and  of  His  word  ? 

If  you  give,  how  do  you  give  ?  Do  you  give  spontaneously, 
and  from  an  inclination  that  causes  you  to  seek  opportunities  for 
so  doing  ?  or  is  it  only  in  mere  imitation  of  others,  or  because  you 
are  urgently  solicited,  or  overcome  by  shame  ?  Do  you  give  in 
secret,  and  do  you  experience  a  special  pleasure  in  those  good 
works  that  are  witnessed  by  God  alone  ?  It  is  written  :  "  God 
loves  the  cheerful  giver."  Do  you  give  cheerfully  ?  Is  he  who 
collects  for  charitable  objects  welcomed  at  your  house  ?  Is  your 
door  one  of  those  at  which  he  enters  with  pleasure,  or  is  it  one 
of  those  at  which  he  knocks  only  after  having  won  a  victory  over 
himself  ?     Do  you  encourage  him  by  your  reception,  or  do  you 


THE   LOVEK   OF   MONEY.  103 

begin  by  telling  him  that  the  times  are  bad,  that  your  affairs  are 
not  In  a  very  prosperous  condition,  and  that  the  demands  upon 
you  are  very  numerous  ?  Poor  collector  I  His  task  may  have 
been  an  enviable  one  in  the  church  of  Jerusg,lem  ;  but  rendered 
what  it  is  by  such  as  yourself,  would  you  take  his  place  ? 

But  especially,  how  much  do  you  give  ?  Is  your  liberality — 
speaking  in  the  words  of  Saint  Paul — made  ready  "as  a  matter 
of  bounty,  and  not  as  of  covetousness  ?"  Yes,  as  of  covetous- 
ness  ;  the  word  employed  by  Saint  Paul  in  this  place  (2  Cor.  ix. 
5),  is  the  same  as  that  of  which  the  Lord  makes  use  in  our  text. 
The  gift  is  of  covetousness,  when  it  is  reduced  as  much  as  it  can 
be  honestly,  and  when  the  desire  of  giving  is  less  exhibited  than 
that  of  retaining.  Do  you  give  in  a  way  that  may  serve  as  an 
example  to  others,  or  do  you  content  yourself  with  giving  as 
much  as  those  who  give  but  very  little  ?  If  every  one  were  to 
give  in  the  same  proportion  with  yourself,  would  the  prosperity 
of  the  institutions  for  which  you  contribute  be  secured,  or  would 
their  existence  be  placed  in  peril  ?  Do  you  g'ive  systematically  ? 
Does  the  reign  of  God,  and  do  charitable  interests  occupy  a 
place  by  themselves  in  your  account-book,  or  do  you  devote  to 
them  only  what  happens  to  be  in  your  hand,  as  you  would  in  the 
case  of  little  unforeseen  expenses  ?  Do  you  give  more,  do  you 
even  give  as  much  for  charitable  purposes  as  for  superfluities  ? 
and  could  you  maintain  the  luxury  of  your  dwelling,  or  that  of 
your  table,  with  the  sacrifices  which  you  present  to  the 
Almighty  ?  Have  yofi,  in  order  to  be  able  to  give,  worked  with 
your  own  hands,  according  to  the  exhortation  of  the  apostle  ? 
Have  you,  for  this  purpose,  triumphed  over  a  single  inclination, 
sacrificed  to  a  single  taste,  renounced  a  single  pleasure  ? 

But  I  will  spare  you  ;  I  will  not  push  my  questions  as  far  as  I 
could,  or  as  far,  perhaps,  as  I  ought.  For  what,  in  fine,  would 
you  think  of  me  if  I  were  to  ask  you  whether  you  would  give 
your  whole  fortune  if  God  were  to  demand  the  sacrifice  ?  And 
this  sacrifice  was,  nevertheless,  demanded  of  the  rich  young  man 
spoken  of  in  the  Gospel,  who,  not  being  willing  to  make  this 


104  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

sacrifice,  could  not  be  a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  if  he  con- 
tinued to  be  unwilling  to  make  it,  he  is  at  this  moment  with  the 
wicked  rich  man  in  hell.  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  true,  does  not 
impose  this  obligation  upon  all,  but  the  disposition  is  required 
of  all  ;  and  he  who  would  not  do  what  the  young  rich  man 
refused  to  do,  cannot  be  a  true  Christian.  What  do  you  say  to 
all  this  ?  Consider,  examine.  I  do  noti3retend  to  judge  you  ;  I 
wish  simply  to  aid  you  in  judging  yourselves. 

But,  if  I  ought  not  to  judge  an  individual,  I  cannot  shut  my 
eyes  to  the  condition  of  society.  I  look  around  me  ;  I  reflect 
upon  what  is  taking  place  at  the  present  moment  in  this. coun- 
try, in  this  city,  and  I  am  constrained  to  answer  yes,  to  each 
of  the  three  classes  of  questions  which  I  have  just  propounded 
to  you. 

Yes,  bad  means  are  often  employed  in  the  acquirement  of 
riches.  If  I  were  obliged  to  prove  this  from  your  personal 
experience,  I  would  here  point  you  to  slavery,  that  curse  of 
pagan  nations,  that  shame  to  Christian  people  ;  slavery,  whose 
object  seems  none  other  than  to  exhibit  in  a  single  action 
all  the  crimes  and  misery  that  the  love  of  money  can  produce  ; 
slavery,  that  national  sin,  against  which  public  opinion  begins 
to  clamor,  but  which  we  have  practised  for  centuries,  which  we 
still  retain  in  spite  of  generous  examples,  and  which  finds 
defenders  even  in  our  legislative  assemblies. 

But  it  is  needless  to  go  so  far  for  arguments  ;  we  have  them 
all  around  us.  The  usurer,  who  deserves  not  to  be  named 
among  Christians,  is  not  unknown  either  among  our  poor,  or 
among  our  rich,  or  in  our  towns,  or  in  our  fields  *,  and  those 
who  engage  in  this  business,  know  that  it  is  criminal,  since  they 
take  care  to  leave  no  written  traces  of  their  dark  transactions. 
Frauds,  and  falsehoods,  great  or  small  (a  distinction  which  the 
Lord  my  Master  has  not  taught  me  how  to  make);  frauds  and 
falsehoods,  I  say,  abound  in  business  matters.  This  fact  is  pro- 
verbial ;  it  is  confessed,  it  is  justified,  and  commerce  has  a  code 
of  morals  of  its  own,  which  agrees  but  ill  with  that  of  J^sus 


THE   LOVEK   OF   MONEY.  105 

Christ.  There  are,  however,  faithful  men,  who  desire,  at  any 
price,  to  keep  their  conscience  pure  ;  but  the  smallness  of  their 
number,  their  embarrassments,  the  temptation  w^iich  they  ex- 
perience, either  to  withdraw  from  a  competition  which  their  deli- 
cacy renders  unequal,  or  to  continue  a  career  which  the  w^orld 
does  not  condemn,  attest  more  conclusively  the  greatness  of  the 
evil.  It  is  a  very  easy  matter,  at  the  present  day,  to  count 
these  upright,  clean-handed  merchants,  who,  controlled  by  con- 
science, even  when  not  compelled  by  law,  think,  in  adverse 
times,  of  increasing  their  own  fortunes  only  after  having  repaired 
the  losses  of  others  ;  but  it  is  not  a  very  rare  thing  to  see  per- 
sons risking  in  rash  enterprises,  a  borrowed  capital,  getting  out 
of  difficulty  in  case  of  accident,  by  declaring  themselves  bank- 
rupt, and  then  beginning  anew,  with  no  damage  to  themselves 
except  of  conscience. 

Distrust  is  felt  everywhere  ;  bad  faith  is  always  counted  upon; 
we  w^eigh  after  the  seller  has  weighed  ;  we  beat  down  the  price 
of  everything,  and  this  bad  habit  which  shows  itself  in  the  most 
honest  people  in  spite  of  themselves,  gives  a  fair  exhibition  of 
the  morality  of  commerce.  Even  the  public  health  is  jeopar- 
dized by  it,  and  poisonous  substances  find  their  way  into  the 
bread  which  nourishes  us,  and  into  the  liquors  which  w^e  drink. 
Jealous  of  one  another,  overseers  and  workmen  seem  associated 
together  only  for  the  sake  of  mutual  injury.  Not  long  since  we 
saw  the  latter  combining  unjustly  to  compel  manufacturers  to 
raise  their  wages.  But  we  see,  every  day,  manufacturers  taking 
advantage  of  the  necessities  of  the  poor,  and  obliging  them  to 
undergo  labor  so  excessive  as  to  destroy  mind,  soul,  and  body. 
We  see  young  children  (oh,  that  the  representatives  of  the 
nation,  who  have  revealed  to  us  the  depth  of  the  wound,  might 
find  an  efficacious  remedy!),  we  see  young  children  working  in 
our  factories  from  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  ten  o'clock  at 
night  with  scarcely  time  to  eat  and  sleep,  deprived  of  schools, 
without  religious  instruction,  and  induced  by  a  brutish  fatigue 
to  resort  to  more  brutish  means  of  excitement.     We  see  them^ 


106  A^DOLPHE   MONOD. 

sometimes  (shall  we  saj  it?)  more  abandoned  than  ihe  very 
slaves  of  our  colonies,  for  the  simple  and  frightful  reason  that 
more  care  is  taken  of  what  is  bought  than  of  what  is  hired. 
We  are  told  in  reply  to  this,  that  the  manufacturer  is  forced  to 
conform  to  the  general  custom,  if  he  would  not  shut  his  work- 
shop. This  may  be  so  ;  I  do  not  pretend  to  judge  ;  but  what 
is  then  our  condition,  if  the  individual  can  be  absolved  only  at 
the  expense  of  society  ?  Ah,  how  few  fortunes,  great  or  small, 
wherein  sin  has  not  had  a  hand  !  and  how  generally  does  the 
manner  in  which  money  is  acquired,  justify  the  name  given  to  it 
by  our  Lord  :  *'the  Mammon  of  unrighteousness  !" 

Once  more  fortune  is  pursued  with  insatiable  ardor.  This 
ardor  has  always  existed,  but  during  our  day,  it  has  a  peculiar 
character  ;  it  is  a  passion  for  sudden  riches.  Everything  is  ven- 
tured, in  order  to  obtain  everything  ;  the  chance  of  falling  into 
absolute  poverty  will  be  taken,  rather  than  forego  the  opportu- 
nity of  securing  fortune  ;  and  that  honest  mean  which  the  pious 
Agur  placed  above  everything  in  his  humble  prayer  :  •"  Give  me 
neither  poverty  nor  riches  ;  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for 
me,"  is  what  the  present  age  seems  to  shun  with  the  greatest 
care. 

Cast  your  eyes  about  you.  Every  one  is  covetous,  every  one 
is  eager  to  enrich  himself,  even  in  a  single  day.  Commerce  is 
covetous  :  competition  is  without  bounds  ;  rapid  fortunes,  un- 
heard-of successes,  sudden  falls,  speculations  without  end,  haz- 
ards, lotteries,  excitements  for  gaming  under  all  forms  ;  such  is 
the  new  mode  of  satisfying  the  old  thirst  for  gold.  Industry 
is  covetous  :  those  admirable  inventions  which  are  continually 
succeeding  one  another,  aim  less  at  the  progress  of  art  than  at 
the  making  of  money  ;  produced  by  the  hope  of  gain,  they  has- 
ten towards  gain  ;  in  their  headlong  march,  imprudence  is  inevi- 
table, and  accidents  multiply  ;  but  this  is  of  no  consequence, 
and  cupidity  drives  the  impatient  wheels  over  the  scattered 
ruins,  and  the  ghastly  dead  ;  the  earth  soon  drinks  up  what 
little  blood  is  shed,  but  the  money  will  remain.     Arobition  is 


THE    LOVEB    OF   MONEY.  107 

covetous  ;  that  solicitation  for  office,  which  crowds  all  the 
avenues  to  authority,  aims  less  than" formerly  at  honor,  and  more 
at  money  ;  and  the  venality  of  office  is  revealed  even  in  the 
praiseworthy  but  humiliating  precautions  which  are  considered 
as  necessary  to  be  takeu  against  it.  The  struggle  of  parties  is 
covetous  :  if  the  levelling  spirit  of  some  often  conceals  a  desire 
of  building  up  and  enriching  themselves,  is  the  love  of  order  in 
others  always  so  pure  that  it  never  covers  the  desire  of  preserv- 
ing their  own  advantages  ?  and  if  many  of  the  friends  of  equality 
are  such  in  regard,  above  all,  to  propriety,  are  there  not  many 
conservative  men  who  are  such  in  regard,  above  all,  to  their  own 
fortunes  ?  Legislation  is  covetous  :  in  it,  money  is  the  chief  cor- 
ner stone  ;  money  choses  the  arbiters  of  our  social  and  political 
destinies  ;  it  does  more,  it  choses  the  managers  of  our  churches; 
and,  judging  by  appearances,  one  would  believe  that  the  rich 
enter  most  easily  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Marriage  is  covet- 
ous :  the  union  of  man  and  w^oman  is  ordinarily  a  secondary 
matter  ;  it  is  two  fortunes  that  are  pleasing  to  one  another,  that 
woo  one  another,  that  win  one  another,  and  are  married  to  one 
another  ;  and  the  most  intimate  of  all  associations  degenerates 
into  a  calculation,  and  is  transformed  into  a  contract.  Litera- 
ture is  covetous  :  that  desire  of  perfection,  that  persevering 
labor,  that  earnest  study,  that  conscientious  worship  of  the  beau- 
tiful, of  the  good  and  the.  true,  which  formerly  characterized  our 
great  writers,  are  sought  in  vain  among  their  successors  ;  im- 
patient of  producing,  and  more  impatient  of  acquiring,  the 
literature  of  the  present  day  spends  its  strength  in  unfinished, 
defective,  extravagant  works,  alas  1  perhaps  immoral  and  im- 
pious, but  which  cater  for  the  tastes  of  the  multitude,  and  pour 
into  the  hands  of  their  authors  streams  of  gold  unaccompanied 
by  glory. 

What  shall  I  say  yet  ?  What  if  we  were  to  search  into  the 
part  which  the  love  of  money  has  in  those  numberless  errors 
that,  by  turns,  toss  the  human  mind,  and  in  those  senseless 
systems  that  topple,   one  upon  the   other,  after  having  been 


108  ADOLPIIE  iSSrONOD. 

sustaiued  a  few  years  by  the  appeal  to  material  interest  ?  the 
part  which  it  has  in  those  crimes  that  sully  the  pages  of  all  our 
public  journals  ;  in  the  murders,  the  poisonings,  the  suicides,  the 
law-suits,  the  divorces,  the  hatreds,  the  revenges,  and  in  all  the 
fruits  of  sin  which  we  harvest  abundantly  in  a  field  sown  with 
infidelity  ? 

A  covetous  use  is,  in  fine,  made  of  the  goods  of  fortune.  Not 
that  they  are  not  spent  ;  let  them,  indeed,  be  ever  so  much 
spent,  they  are,  with  few  exceptions,  spent  for  self-gratification, 
not  sacrificed  to  charity.  I  will  cite  but  a  single  proof  of  this, 
the  condition  of  our  religious  and  benevolent  societies.  The 
Lord  has,  in  our  day,  inspired  his  followers  with  the  happy  idea 
of  propagating  the  Gospel  by  means  of  association,  that  power- 
ful instrument  of  our  age.  He  has  raised  up  faithful  servants 
who  have  given  their  time,  their  strength,  and  their  money,  to 
organize  and  maintain  institutions  devoted  to  the  good  of  man- 
kind and  the  glory  of  God.  When  they  have  urged  the 
churches  to  engage  in  their  pious  works,  what  has  happened  ? 
Help  has  been  obtained,  and  the  work  of  the  Lord  has  not  been 
stopped ;  it  has  been  productive  of  good,  much  good,  and,  after 
God,  we  bless  the  authors  of  these  sacrifices  in  which  God 
delights.  But  are  the  contributions  liberal?  are  they  sufficient? 
Do  we  give,  generally,  as  we  could,  as  we  ought -to  give?  Do 
we  even  approach  it  ?  No,  my  brethren,  no  !  Our  societies 
vegetate  rather  than  live.  One  proposes  to  publish  an  edition 
of  the  Bible  for  the  aged,  but  the  enterprise  must  be  delayed 
until  sufiQcient  funds  are  specially  gathered  together  for  it. 
Another  begins  its  work  with  a  deficit,  the  first  year,  of  fifteen 
thousand  francs  ;  and  the  following  year,  with  a  deficit  of  thirty 
thousand  francs.  A  third  has  five  missionaries  ready  for  the 
people  of  Southern  Africa,  who  arc  anxiously  awaiting  them  ; 
but  the  sum  of  25,000  francs  is  needed  to  fit  them  out,  and 
during  the  last  five  months  all  France  has  been  ransacked  with- 
out finding  more  than  half  of  the  required  sum.  Poor  Bech- 
uanas  1  we  will  give  you  missionaries,  but  on  condition  that  you 


THE   LOVER  OF   MONEY.  109 

pay  for  them  !  You  must  give  the  half  of  your  wretclied  income, 
the  only  good  that  you  possess  in  the  world,  the  fruit  of  a  whole 
year's  economy  1  Ah  !  that  you  may  be  ignorant  at  least  of  our 
covetousness,  and  not  judge  by  us  of  that  Gospel  which  we 
preach  to  you  1 

Again,  everything  is  embarrassed,  mean,  uncertain  in  our 
societies  ;  and  thus  it  will  be,  so  long  as  the  plan  of  our  liber- 
alities shall  not  have  undergone  a  complete  revision,  a  radical 
reform.  Money  is  not  wanting,  but  it  takes  a  wrong  direction. 
Instead  of  flowing  abundantly  in  the  channels  of  charity,  water- 
ing the  garden  of  the  Lord,  it  is  emptied  into  the  gulf  of  Parsi- 
mony, or  swallowed  up  in  the  thirsty  sands  of  Prodigality. 
Making  allowance  for  the  necessities  of  life,  for  habits,  social 
comforts,  provision  for  the  future,  the  establishment  of  children, 
etc.,  would  there  not  be,  with  prudence,  abundant  resources  for 
every  good  work,  provided  that  some  would  retrench  expenses 
which  they  know  to  be  foolish,  and  which  they  dare  not  defend  ; 
and  that  others  would  have  the  courage  to  lay  a  bold  hand 
upon  those  useless  treasures  that  they  are,  day  by  day,  accumu- 
lating ?  And  what,  oh,  my  God  !  if  we  were  to  do  as  did  the 
disciples  of  a  crucified  Master,  if  we  were  to  impose  upon  our- 
selves true  sacrifices,  if  we  were  less  mindful  of  our  ease,  of  our 
tastes,  of  our  welfare,  of  what  we  deem  necessary,  but  which  is, 
in  fact,  superfluous  ?  What,  if  we  were  to  enter  into  the  spirit 
of  those  beautiful  words  of  David  :  ''  Neither  will  I  ofi'er  burnt 
offerings  unto  the  Lord  my  God  of  that  which  cost  me  nothing  ?" 

My  brethren,  I  do  not  wish,  nor  is  it  in  my  power,  to  tax  you. 
But  compare  what  you  give  with  what  was  given  by  the  primi- 
tive Christians  :  I  do  not  mean  at  Jerusalem,  but  in  the  other 
churches.  "We  do  you  to  wit  of  the  grace  of  God  bestowed 
on  the  churches  of  Macedonia,"  wrote  St.  Paul  to  the  Corin- 
thians (the  grace  of  God  bestowed  ;  do  you  feel  the  force  of 
this  expression?)  ;  how  that,  in  a  great  trial  of  affliction,  the 
abundance  of  their  joy,  and  their  deep  poverty,  abounded  unto 
the  riches  of  their  liberality.     *'  For  to  their  power  I  bear  record, 


110  ADOLPHE  MONOD. 

yea,  and  beyond  their  power,  they  were  willing  of  themselves  ; 
praying  with  us  with  much  entreaty,  that  we  would  receive  the 
gift,  and  take  upon  us  the  fellowship  of  the  ministering  to  the 
saints."  Ah,  my  brethren,  when  shall  we  exchange  places 
with  them  ?  When  shall  the  time  come,  when  you  will 
press  us  to  receive,  and  we  shall  be  obliged  to  moderate  your 
zeal  ?  Compare  what  you  give  with  what  is  given,  at  the  pre- 
sent day,  by,  whom  ?  the  richest  nations  of  the  globe  ?  the 
English  ?  the  Americans  ?  no,  but  by  liberated  negroes.  The 
five  hundred  thousand  negroes  of  Jamaica,  slaves  but  yesterday, 
have  recently,  in  the  course  of  a  single  year,  given  for  religious 
and  benevolent  purposes,  from  twelve  to  fifteen  hundred  thousand 
francs  ;  a  sum  enormous,  in  consideration  of  their  poverty,  a 
sum  double,  triple,  quadruple,  quintuple,  perhaps,  that  given 
during  the  same  time,  and  for  similar  objects  by  all  the  united 
Protestants  of  France.  Finally,  compare  what  you  give  with 
what  the  law  of  Moses  obliged  the  Jews  to  give  for  the 
support  of  religion,  and  for  charitable  purposes.  The  tenth 
part  of  their  revenues  was  for  the  Levites,  and  the  fortieth  part 
superadded  for  the  priests.  Besides  this,  the  Jews  were  obliged 
to  give  the  produce  of  their  fruit  trees  during  four  years,  the 
first  fruits  of  all  their  harvests,  the  sixtieth  part  of  their  crops, 
the  fruits  of  the  earth  during  the  year  of  jubilee,  which  returned 
every  seven  years,  and  the  debts  contracted  in  the  interval 
between  one  jubilee  and  another.  Add  to  all  this,  personal 
taxes,  multitudinous  sacrifices  and  oblations,  with  frequent  jour- 
neys to  Jerusalem,  and  we  shall  find  that  God  imposed  upon  his 
people  a  tribute  that  exceeded  the  third  of  their  revenues.  Who 
would  dare  to  propose  to  us  such  sacrifices  ? 

But  should  love,  under  the  new  economy,  do  less  than  law  did 
under  the  old  ?  If  God,  treating  us  with  the  confidence  of  a 
father,  is  contented  to  say  to  us  :  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself,"  and 
at  the  same  time  allow  us  to  apply  this  perfect  rule,  shall  we 
abuse  this  confidence  by  spending  what  we  owe  to  God  and  to 


.      THE   LOVER   OF   MONEY.  Ill 

our  neighbor  ?  We  do  not  assume  to  tax  you,  I  repeat  it,  when 
God  has  not  done  it ;  what  we  could  wish,  what  God  wishes,  is 
that  charity  should  tax  itself,  "  each  one  as  God  hath  prospered 
him." — (1  Cor.  xvi.  2.)  But  that  charity  is  stifled  by  the  love  of 
money.  Such  a  one  enjoys  those  pleasures  which  force  a  relative, 
a  brother,  I  will  not  say  a  father  or  a  mother,  to  struggle  against 
the  privations  and  the  fatigue  of  poverty.  Such  a  rich  man 
spends  less  in  a  whole  year  for  the  support  of  charitable  insti- 
tutions, than  he  lavishes  in  a  single  day  for  the  maintenance  of 
his  house.  Such  a  fashionable  woman  will  find  scarcely  five  or 
ten  francs  for  the  advancement  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  while 
she  will  find  five  hundred  or  a  thousand  to  throw  away  upon  an 
evening  party.  Such  a  cultivator,  full  of  wealth,  will  draw  from 
his  coffers  a  few  francs  for  the  evangelization  of  the  world,  or 
of  France,  and  spend  a  few  thousand  for  the  construction  of  a 
more  commodious  and  more  elegant  mansion.  Oh,  my  friends, 
bear  with  the  freedom  of  my  words.  I  make  no  personal  appli- 
cation of  them,  and  I  beg  that  no  one  will  apply  them  except 
to  himself.  But  I  speak  of  things  which  every  one  knows,  which 
every  one  sees,  and  if  I  hold  my  peace  the  very  stones  will  cry 
out.  Oh,  what  covetousness  is  in  the  world  !  What  covetous- 
ness  is  in  the  church  I  What  covetousness  in  the  noisy  city  ! 
What  covetousness  in  the  quiet  fields  I 

But  I  return,  my  dear  hearer  ;  I  am  not  now  dealing  with 
society,  but  with  you,  with  you  alone.  Place  your  hand  upon 
your  heart.  Forget  the  poor  sinner  who  is  addressing  you. 
Suppose  that  Jesus  Christ,  your  Lord  and  your  God,  were  him- 
self to  come  to  you,  and,  with  that  tender  love  that  pierces  the 
heart,  that  divine  unction  that  moves  it  to  its  very  centre,  should 
say  :  "My  friend"  (it  was  thus  that  he  addressed  Judas),  "  My 
friend,  art  thou  one  of  my  friends,  or  art  thou  a  friend  of  money  ?" 
If  you  feel  that  the  truth  condemns  you,  do  not  forsake  the 
light !  Pluck  not  out  the  arrow  that  has  penetrated  your  soul  I 
You  are  living  in  sin,  in  sin  that  is  destroying  you  !  You  must 
sbandon  it,  whatever  it  may  cost,  you  must  abandon  it  I 


112  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

If  the  Lord  says  to  you  :  "  Take  heed  and  be'ware  of  covet- 
ousness,"  he  warns  you  also  to  save  yourself  from  covetousness. 
And  how  will  you  do  it  ?  I  will  tell  you  very  briefly,  for  time 
urges  us  ;  besides  a  few  words  will  suffice,  if  you  are  sincere  ; 
and  if  you  are  not,  all  the  instructions  in  the  world  will  profit 
you  nothing. 

To  save  yourself  from  covetousness  I  Ah  !  it  is  the  vork  of 
God  alone.  But  God  can  do  it.  God  has  done  it  for  others. 
Lovers  of  money  and  those  enslaved  to  the  worst  sins  have  been 
transformed  into  free  men.  Witness  Zaccheus,  that  tax-gatherer, 
"  that  man  that  is  a  sinner,"  enriched  by  wrongs  committed  upou 
his  neighbor  ;  not  only  was  he  completely  changed,  but  he  was 
changed  in  a  single  day.  Take  him  for  a  model.  Zaccheus  did 
two  things.  First,  he  became  a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ ;  secondly, 
he  disposed  of  his  fortune,  according  to  the  direction  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Do  ye  likewise.  Give  to  the  Lord,  this  day,  your  heart 
and  your  hand. 

It  is  in  the  heart  that  we  must  begin.  The  love  of  money  is 
in  the  heart.  But  what  must  be  done  to  drive  it  out  ?  Form 
an  energetic  resolution  to  combat  and  stifle  it  ?  Such  indeed  is 
the  advice  of  the  moralists  of  this  age  ;  and  thus  they  have 
never  been  able  to  accomplish  anything,  and  thus  Seneca  gave 
an  example  of  covetousness,  while  thundering  against  it  in  his 
eloquent  pages. 

The  Gospel  employs  quite  another  method  :  it  opens  our  heart 
to  another  love,  to  the  love  of  the  Saviour.  There  is  in  the 
heart  of  man  a  thirst  which  the  love  of  money  will  always  fail 
to  satisfy,  so  long  as  it  is  not  quenched  by  the  love  of  Christ. 
Give  your  heart  to  Jesus  Christ ;  this  is  not  so  difficult ;  for  in 
order  to  love  him,  it  is  only  necessary  to  contemplate  him.  You 
have  read  the  Gospel,  but  you  have  not  given  attention  to  it  ; 
return  to  it,  and,  upon  your  bended  knee,  implore  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  aid  you  in  comprehending  and  feeling  the  Divine  word. 
See  him,  that  holy,  just,  and  innocent  One,  without  spot,  separate 
from  sinners,  exalted  above  the  heavens  j  see  him  commg  down  to 


THE   LOVER   OF  MONEY.  113 

earth  "  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost,"  to  seek  even  ymt, 
to  save  even  you.  See  him,  "who  was  rich," — and  with  what 
riches  ! — "  for  your  sake  becoming  poor,"  and  with  what  poverty ! 
See  him  living  upon  the  earth — him  your  Lord  and  your  God — 
living  as  you  yourselves  would  not  wish  to  live,  nourished  by 
charity's  hand,  not  even  a  penny  wherewith  to  pay  the  tribute 
demanded  of  him,  nor  a  place  whereon  to  lay  his  head.  See  him 
sold  for  that  miserable  money  which  you  prefer  to  all  things,  deliv- 
ered into  the  hands  of  wicked  men,  condemned  as  a  criminal,  insult- 
ed, crowned  with  thorns,  crucified  between  two  malefactors,  and  for 
whom  ?  For  you,  yes,  for  you  who  have,  until  this  very  moment, 
loved  the  thirty  pieces  of  Judas  more  than  the  blood  of  your 
Saviour,  but  who  wish  henceforth  to  love  the  blood  of  your 
Saviour  more  than  the  thirty  pieces  of  Judas.  See  and  beheve, 
and  fall  at  His  feet,  crying  with  the  Apostle  Peter,  "  Thou  art 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God."  Then,  doubt  it  not,  the 
shameful  chains  with  which  you  have  been  bound  by  Mammon, 
will  fall  from  you  of  themselves. 

How  would  you  still  call  fortune  the  chief  good,  and  poverty 
insupportable  ?  Your  Saviour  became  poor  that  you  might 
have  eternal  riches.  How  would  you  still  be  anxious  for  your 
hfe,  or  for  your  family  ?  He  has  said  unto  you,  "  I  will  not 
leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee."  How  could  you  be  unable  to 
suffer  the  deprivation  of  your  goods  ?  You  have  in  heaven 
treasures  better  and  enduring.  How  refuse  the  sacrifice  of  your 
fortune  to  the  Lord  ?  It  belongs  to  Him,  and  He  has  confided 
it  to  you.  He  who  first  gave  himself  for  you,  and  who  is  himself 
alone  your,  riches,  your  gold  and  your  silver.  Ah  I  it  is  only 
necessary  to  be  a  Christian,  in  order  to  be  the  most  disinterested 
of  men  ;  and* if  there  are  so  few  uncontrolled  by  the  love  of 
money,  it  is  because  there  are  so  few  true  Christians  even  among 
true  Christians. 

Such  is  the  first  step,  heartfdt  faith  ;  behold  now  the  second, 
liberality  of  the  hands,  which  springs  from  this  faith,  and  which, 
in  turn,  nourishes  it.     Zacchcus  had  no  sooner  known  the  Lord 


114  ADOLPHE  MONOD. 

than  he  presented  himself  before  him,  saying  :  "  Behold,  Lord, 
the  half  of  my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor,  and  if  I  have  taken  any- 
thing from  any  man  by  false  accusation,  I  restore  him  fourfold." 
Imitate  him,  like  him,  give  with  method  :  like  him,  establish  a 
rule,  broad  and  generous.  What  each  one  ought  to  give,  or  the 
manner  in  which  he  ought  to  give  it,  is  with  him  to  settle  with 
the  Lord  ;  the  Gospel  has  not  prescribed  in  such  matters,  it  has 
been  left  with  your  charity.  Justify  this  confidence.  Eaise 
yourself  above  cold  custom,  and  make  your  account  not  with 
men  but  with  Jesus  Christ.  Be  not  satisfied  with  the  exclama- 
tion :  "  That  is  well  done."  Be  filled  with  the  thought  that 
your  fortune  belongs  to  Him  more  than  to  you,  and  that  you  are 
appointed  to  administer  it  in  His  name.  Kemember  the  words 
of  Christ  :  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive  ;"  and 
give  like  a  man  who  feels  that  even  giving  is  a  favor  which  God 
has  accorded  to  him.  Congratulate  yourself  upon  living  in  a 
time  when  occasions  for  giving  profitably  are  increasing. 
Blessed  is  he  who  can  at  the  same  time  respond  to  the  appeal  of 
the  age,  to  the  appeal  of  mankind,  to  the  appeal  of  the  Lord, 
and  to  the  appeal  of  his  own  heart,  but  of  a  heart  animated  by 
charity  I 

For  you  who  are  rich,  this  is  a  happiness  exceeding  all  others. 
Learn  then  to  enjoy  your  fortune.  Understand  why  God  has 
given  it  to  you.  Spend  it  for  his  glory  as  long  as  you  live  ; 
and  forget  not  in  your  last  will  Him  to  whom  you  owe  your 
temporal  and  eternal  inheritance.  Of  what  use  are  your  riches, 
if  you  make  them  not  the  means  of  doing  good,  if  you  are  not 
"  rich  in  good  works,  ready  to  distribute,  williug  to  communi- 
cate ?"  Then  alone  will  you  be  happy  in  being  rich,  and  the 
world  happy  in  that  you  are  so.  Then  this  piwsperity  which 
has  destroyed  so  many  others,  will  be  for  you  a  means  of  making 
"your  calling  and  election  sure."  Then  in  parting  with  your 
earthly  treasures,  you  will  remember  with  joy  that  you  have 
sown  in  the  field  of  the  Lord,  where  you  will  reap  many  fold  ; 
and,  like  the  charitable  man  of  whom  we  read,  you  may  cause  to 


THE   LOVER   OF   MONET.  115 

be  written  upon  your  tomb  :  "  What  I  kept,  I  lost ;  what  I  gave 
away,  I  retained." 

Aud  you  to  whom  the  Lord  has  given  what  was  desired  by  the 
wise  Agur,  complain  not  that  you  cannot  give  what  you  could  wish, 
but  rather  give  what  you  can.  "  For  if  there  be  first  a  willing 
mind,  it  is  accepted  according  to  that  a  man  hath,  and  not 
according  to  that  he  hath  not."  Try  hard,  aud  you  will  find 
that  you  can  do  more,  much  more  than  yoU  imagine.  An  inge- 
nious charity  will  enrich  you  in  the  Lord  ;  impracticable  sacri- 
fices will  become  easy  ;  necessary  expenses  will  seem  to  you 
superfluous  ;  and  if  the  rich  have  the  advantage  of  offering  more 
abundant  gifts,  you  will  have  the  advantage  of  exercising  more 
self-denial  in  yours. 

And  finally,  to  you,  whom  the  Lord  has  placed  in  the  same 
situation  in  which  He  lived  while  upon  the  earth,  to  you  should 
Christian  liberality  be  forbidden  ?  N  o,  my  brethren,  no.  Take 
the  example  of  the  poor  widow.  Have  you  nothing  to  give  ? 
She  had  no  more  than  you,  but  a  sacrificing  spirit  enabled  her  to 
discover  in  her  profound  poverty,  an  offering  which  excited  the 
admiration  of  the  Lord.  Do  you  say  that  what  you  might  be 
able  to  give  would  be  too  little  to  be  of  any  service  ?  Were  the 
two  mites  %i  the  widow  lost  ?  Have  they  not  been  more  ser- 
viceable, yes,  literally,  more  serviceable  than  the  rich  of^rings 
that  fell  with  hers  into  the  treasury  of  the  temple  ?  These  two 
mites  have  been  multiplied  from  age  to  age,  by  the  faith  that 
offered  them  and  by  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  who  accepted 
them,  and  who  determined  that  His  Gospel  should  perpetuate 
their  remembrance.  These  two  mites  have,  from  century  to  cen- 
tury, provoked  sacrifices  on  the  part  of  a  multitude  of  poor 
Christians,  who  would  have  never  known  that  they  had  anything 
to  give,  if  they  had  not  been  taught  by  the  poor  widow,  and 
who,  by  reason  of  their  number,  give,  as  has  often  been  calcu- 
lated, more  than  the  rich.  These  two  mites  have  already  drawn 
into  the  treasury  of  the  church  sums  immensely  great,  and  their 
work  is  not  yet  done ;  they  will  continue  to  act  "  wheresoever 


116  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

this  Gospel  shall  be  preached  throughout  the  whole  world  ;"  and 
if  you,  yourselves,  decide  this  day  to  imitate  the  widow's  charity, 
it  will  be  a  new  fruit  of  her  humble  offering.  Why  should  there 
be  no  fruit  of  yours  ?  Be  faithful  only,  and  wait  upon  Him  who 
increased  the  oil  of  the  widow  of  Sarepta,  and  multiplied  the 
mites  of  the  widow  of  Jerusalem  I 

Lord  Jesus  I  Thou  hast  come  to  us,  to-day,  saying  :  "  Take 
heed  and  beware  of  the  love  of  money."  And  we  come  to  Thee 
saying  :  Save  us  from  the  love  of  money  !  Beat  off,  destroy 
this  serpent  that  enfolds  us  I  Faith,  liberality,  everything  comes 
from  thee  I  Bestow  these  upon  us,  so  that,  washed  in  thy  blood 
and  baptized  in  thy  spirit,  we  may  henceforth  consecrate  to  thy 
service  all  that  we  have  and  all  that  we  are  ;  glad  to  offer  thee 
a  thousand  fortunes  and  a  thousand  lives  if  we  had  them,  and 
still  regretting  that  we  had  not  more  to  offer,  in  retui-n  for  that 
ineffable  gift  whence  flow  our  happiness  and  our  eternal  wealth  ! 


DISCOURSE  IV. 


THE  CONFLICT  OP  CHRIST  WITH  SATAN. 

"And  Jesus,  being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  returned  from  Jordan,  and  was  led  in 
the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness,  being  forty  days  tempted  of  the  devil.  And  in  those  days 
he  did  eat  nothing  :  and  when  they  were  ended,  he  afterward  hungered.  And  the  devil 
said  unto  him.  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  this  stone  that  it  be  made  bread. 
And  Jesus  answered  him,  saying.  It  is  written,  that  man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone, 
but  by  every  word  of  God.  And  the  devil,  taking  him  up  into  an  high  mountain,  shewed 
unto  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  moment  of  time.  And  the  devil  said  unto 
him.  All  this  power  will  I  give  thee,  and  the  glory  of  them :  for  that  is  delivered  unto 
me ;  and  to  whomsoever  I  will,  I  give  it.  If  thou,  therefore,  will  worship  me,  all  shall 
be  thine.  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him.  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  :  for  it  is 
written,  thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou  serve.  And  he 
brought  him  to  Jerusalem,  and  set  him  on  a  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  and  said  unto  him, 
If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself  down  from  thence  :  for  it  is  written.  He  shallgive 
his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee :  and  in  their  hands  they  shall  bear  thee  up, 
lest  at  any  time  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone.  And  Jesus  answering  said  unto  him, 
It  is  said.  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.  And  when  the  devil  had  ended  all 
the  temptation,  he  departed  from  him  for  a  season." — Luke,  iv.  1-13. 

My  Christian  Friends  : 

The  aspect  of  Scripture  trutli  oftentimes  varies,  according  as 
we  regard  it  with  the  eyes  of  human  wisdom,  or  with  those  of 
faith  :  and  nowhere  is  that  difference  more  striking  than  in  the 
page  which  we  have  just  read.  For  my  own  part,  I  remember 
a  time  when  I  never  met  this  passage  without  a  kind  of  shame  for 
my  own  understanding,  and  I  might  almost  say  for  the  word  of 
God  :  whereas  now  I  turn  to  it  again  and  again,  as  to  a  favorite 
passage,  where  my  soul  finds  food  both  grateful  and  abundant 

117 


118  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

This  is  so  because  the  narrative  is  as  full  of  wholesome  instruc- 
tions for  the  little  child  who  simply  trusts  to  God's  testimony,  as 
it  is  of  mysteries  for  the  philosopher  who  assumes  to  judge  the 
Scriptures,  instead  of  consenting  to  be  judged  by  them. 

There  is  mystery  in  the  personal  existence  of  the  devil,  and  in 
the  influence  which  he  exerts  upon  us.  His  influence  is  so 
clearly  asserted  in  the  Scriptures  that  we  cannot  deny  it  v/ithout 
doing  them  violence.  But  as  to  its  origin,  its  nature,  its  extent 
— on  all  these  points  we  are  left  in  almost  total  ignorance. 
There  is  mystery  in  the  power  granted  to  the  devil  to  lay  his  in- 
famous snares  for  the  Son  of  God  himself.  We  can  understand 
how  he  tempts  us,  for  by  sin  we  have  become  subject  to  his 
sway  ;  but  how  can  we  conceive  of  his  being  permitted  to  tempt 
*'The  Lord  of  lords,  the  Holy  of  holies,"  him  "in  whom  he 
hath  nothing  ?"  There  is  mystery  in  the  nature  of  the  tempta- 
tion to  which  Jesus  Christ  was  subjected.  "  He  was  tempted," 
and  yet  "  without  sin  :"  these  two  facts  are  expressly  a,flBrmed  in 
the  Scriptures  :  but  seek  to  take  a  step  further,  and  you  are 
hedged  in  on  every  side.  How  can  we  explain  a  struggle  against 
temptation,  when  there  is  no  inward  propensity  to  sin  ?  Yet, 
how  can  we  reconcile  an  inward  propensity  to  do  wrong,  with 
unspotted  holiness  ?  If  it  were  impossible  for  Jesus  to  fall, 
where  is  the  glory  of  his  triumph  ?  If  it  were  possible,  what 
becomes  of  his  divine  nature  ?  There  is  mystery,  finally,  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  scene  here  described  took  place.  Its  basis 
is  assuredly  a  real  fact  ;  everything  proves  it,  the  tone  of  the 
narrative,  the  locality  assigned  to  the  event,  the  character  of  the 
book  :  and  yet  the  text,  considered  both  as  a  whole  and  in 
its  various  details,  shows  no  less  certainly  that  the  fact  was 
beyond  the  limit  of  human  experience.  How  can  we  solve  this 
apparent  contradiction  ? — this  conflict,  of  which  earth  was  the 
theatre,  while  the  actors  were  taken  from  heaven  and  from  hell  ? 
Where  did  it  occur  ?  Was  it  in  the  visible  or  the  invisible 
world  ? — or  was  it  on  some  dark  boundary  territory,  in  its  nature 
partaking  of  both  ? — Mysteries  on  mysteries  ! 


THE   CONFLICT   OF   CHRIST   WITH    SATAN.  119 

These  obscurities  I  do  not  even  attempt  to  solve.  I  examine 
my  text  dimply  from  that  practical  point  of  view  which  a  child 
could  apprehend  as  well  as  we,  and,  perhaps,  better.  Guided  by 
these  words  of  the  Lord — "I  have  given  you  an  example,  that 
ye  should  do  as  I  have  done," — let  us  seek  the  instructions  which 
he  here  gives  as  the  rule  of  our  life.  Now,  in  this  terrible  con- 
flict of  the  Son  of  God  with  the  spirit  of  darkness,  we  distin- 
guish three  principal  things  :  the  conflict  itself,  the  victory,  and  the 
weapo7is.  Each  of  these  three  will  in  turn  afford  us  instruction. 
By  the  conflict  which  he  endured,  Jesus  teaches  us  to  expect  a 
conflict  also.  By  the  victory  which  he  won,  Jesus  teaches  us  that 
we  in  like  manner  may  conquer.  And  by  the  weapons  which  he 
employed,  Jesus  teaches  us  how  we  make  certain  our  triumph. 
The  subject  is  so  vast,  that  I  have  thought  proper  to  devote 
three  separate  discourses  to  its  consideration.  We  will  restrict 
ourselves,  on  this  occasion,  to  the  Conflict  which  our  Lord 
maintained  in  the  wilderness. 

This  conflict  should  reconcile  us  to  that  which  we  ourselves 
are  compelled  to  maintain.  It  is  the  outward  expression  of  the 
struggles  of  our  own  souls.  •  From  you  who  are  the  children  of 
God,  and  who  are  experienced  in  the  Christian  life,  I  fear  no 
contradiction  in  saying  that  its  temptations  confound  you,  and 
at  times  even  threaten  to  prove  your  ruin.  Upon  entering  the 
ways  of  the  Lord,  it  seems  to  us  that  the  devil  should  be  kept 
at  a  distance,  where  it  is  impossible  foi\him  to  annoy  us. 
When  we  feel  his  assaults,  a  secret  terror  creeps  upon  us,  as  if 
the  Lord  were  leaving  us  altogether.  Our  anxiety  increases  if 
the  temptation  be  prolonged  and  rendered  more  fierce,  especially 
if  it  happens  in  moments  of  communion  with  God,  and,  so  far 
as  we  can  see,  answers  no  good  purpose.  Li  such  a  case,  we 
may  be  driven  well-nigh  to  a  state  of  despair.  Now,  the  conflict 
of  Jesus  corresponds  to  all  this. 

Jesus  is  tempted. — The  struggle  you  are  undergoing,  He  under- 
went before  you.  What  do  I  say  ?  Your  trial  hardly  deserves 
to  be  mentioned  when  compared  with  His.     Temptations  are 


120  ADOLPHE  MONOD 

manifold  ;  they  are  not  equal,  nor  is  the  temptation  equally 
strong  in  the  case  of  different  individuals.  In  order,  then, 
rightly  to  appreciate  the  nature  oi  a  temptation,  we  should 
ascertain,  not  only  what  it  is  in  itself,  but  also  to  him  who  is 
called  to  endure  it. 

Must  we,  then,  in  the  first  place,  consider  the  temptation  in 
itself?  Among  all  you  have  borne,  you  will  find  none  to  com- 
pare with  that  which  Jesus  had  to  endure,  as  related  in  my  text. 
Think  of  it,  and  endeavor  in  imagination  to  put  yourselves  in 
the  position  of  our  Lord — separated  from  the  society  of  men  ; 
cast  out  alone  into  the  midst  of  a  desert ;  surrounded  by  wild 
beasts  ;  deprived  of  all  food  ;  with  the  devil  at  his  side  inces- 
santly attempting  to  ensnare  him  ;  and  all  this  lasting  forty  days 
and  forty  nights.*  This  situation,  in  which  you  dare  not  even 
imagine  yourselves,  was  that  of  your  Saviour. 

But  we  proceed.  The  true  standard  of  temptation  lies  not  in 
its  external  conditions,  but  in  the  internal  sensibilities  of  him 
whom  it  visits.  The  cold,  slimy  touch  of  a  serpent  is  one  thing 
to  the  rough  skin  of  a  herdsman,  and  quite  another  to  the 
delicate  sensitiveness  of  a  young  cliild.  The  tempter's  attacks 
are  not  the  same  when  directed  against  a  sinner  like  you  or  me, 
as  when  directed  against  the  "  Saint  of  saints."  If  we  account 
it  a  terrible  thing  to  contend  with  the  spirit  of  darkness,  what 
must  it  have  been  to  the  Sou  of  God  ?  To  us,  conceived  aifQ 
born  in  iniquity,  fully  subject  to  *'  the  prince  of  this  world,"  his 
assaults — his  onset  and  the  blows  which  he  aims  at  us — are  in 
keeping  with  the  natural  order  of  things.  But  for  "  the  only 
begotten  and  well  beloved  Son  "  to  be  exposed  to  them — is  not 
this  fearfully  contrary  to  the  nature  of  things  ?  and  must  not 
His  whole  divine  Being  have  risen  up  against  that  conflict  with 
unspeakable  horror?  However  this  may  be,  He  has  actually 
been  in  conflict  with  the  tempter. 


*  It  appears  from  the  account  of  the  evangelists,  that  the  Lord  was  tempted  during 
forty  days  ,  and  that  after  this  space,  the  devil  directed  against  him  a  final  effort,  which 
alone  is  detailed  to  us  in  its  full  particulars. 


THE  Conflict  of  ciirist  with  satan.  121 

Childrcu  of  God,  .behold  this  only  begotten  and  well  Ijelovcd 
Son,  wrestling,  as  you  now  are,  with  the  eternal  enemy  of  God 
and  His  people  I  Suppose  yourselves  to  have  been  living  in 
Judea,  eighteen  centuries  ago,  and  to  have  been  informed  that 
the  promised  Messiah  was  somewhere  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Where 'would  you  have  sought  him?  I  know  not;  but  you 
would  surely  have  sought  Ilim  anywhere  rather  than  where  He 
really  was  ;  not  in  the  carpenter's  humble  abode  ;  not  among 
those  whom  John  baptized,  on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan  ;  above 
all,  not  in  the  wilderness,  fighting  with  the  devil.  And  ye^  there 
you  would  have  found  Him,  and  you  would  have  searched  else- 
where in  vain  for  forty  days  and  forty  nights.  But  had  you 
there  at  last  discovered  Him,  would  not  the  sight  of  His  temp- 
tations have  explained  to  you  the  inexplicable  mystery  of  your 
own  ?  Ah  !  I  acknowledge  it  at  last.  The  conflict  before  which 
I  recoil,  and  under  which  I  had  well-nigh  sunk,  is  the  common 
lot  of  humanity — a  lot  so  unavoidable,  that  it  must  needs  be 
waged,  even  when  humanity  was  united  to  divinity  itself !  Then 
let  temptation  come,  let  it  come  in  its  most  bitter,  its  most  pros- 
trating form,  nothing  shall  either  surprise  or  terrify  me  !  Jesus 
we  must  seek  in  the  wilderness  ;  Jacob  at  the  brook  of  Jabbok  ; 
Moses  at  Massah,  and  at  Meribah  ;  Daniel  in  the  lion's  den  : 
John  in  his  exile  ;  Chrysostom  in  his  disgrace  ;  John  Huss  at 
the  Council  of  Constance  ;  Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms  ! 

Jesus  *'was  tempted" — and  in  what 7  The  Holy  Spirit  an- 
swers "in  all  jpointsP  Yes,  verily,  "in  all  points;"  follow 
Him  by  the  light  of  my  text,  and  you  will  see  Him  tempted  at 
all  times,  in  all  places,  in  all  ways. 

1.  At  all  times. — This  is  bnt  "  the  beginninj?  of  sorrows  " — a 
beginning  which  the  sequel  will  complete.  "The  temptation" 
being  "  ended  "  for  this  time,  "  the  devil  departs  from  Him,  but 
only  for  a  season."  He  will  return  to  the  charge — do  not  doubt 
it — he  will  return  to  it  throughout  the  whole  of  Christ's  career  ; 
he  will  renew  it  especially  when  it  shall  reach  the  great,  the 
decisive  hour.     After  having   once   wounded   his   heel   in   the 

6 


4     m 

122  ADOLPIIE   MONOD. 

wilderness,  be  will  inflict  a  second  wound  at  Golgotha,  in  order 
that  Jesus,  who  has  begun  to  tread  upon  this  serpent  in  his 
solitude,  may  finally  crush  his  head  on  the  cross.  Thus,  at  the 
two  extremes  of  the  ministry  of  the  Son  of  God,  do  we  find  two 
great  temptations,  the  most  terrible  of  all,  opening  and  shutting 
the  series  of  all  those  which  assailed  Him  in  succession  for  three 
and  a  half  years.  The  first  a  temptation  of  covetousuess— the 
rejection  of  all  earth's  promises  :  the  second,  a  temptation  of 
suffering — all  the  rage  of  hell,  and  even  the  wrath  of  heaven  to 
be  endured.  We,  too,  shall  find  on  our  way  this  double  temp- 
tation of  the  desert  and  the  cross,  and,  generally,  in  the  same 
order.  At  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  course,  we  are  called 
upon  to  overcome  earthly  desires  by  self-denial ;  at  a  later 
period,  and  especially  in  the  last  struggle,  to  subdue  by  patience 
the  pains  of  the  body  and  the  anguish  of  the  mind.  "If  any 
man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 
cross P 

2.  In  all  2jlaccs. — Here  we  need  not  wander  from  our  text. 
We  here  find  Jesus  tempted  in  the  wilderness,  tempted  on  the 
mountain,  tempted  in  the  holy  city.  There  are  men  who  have 
buried  themselves  in  deserts,  hoping  thus  to  avoid  temptation — 
strange  delusion  !  Did  lliey,  then,  forget  that  it  was  in  a  desert 
that  the  Lord  was  tempted  ?  You  may  have  escaped  the  com- 
pany of  your  fellow-men,  but  how  will  you  escape  Satan,  and 
your  own  heart  ?  These  two  foes,  the  outward  and  the  inward, 
banded  together  against  you,  will  follow  you  wherever  you  go. 
In  the  wilderness,  on  the  mountain,  in  the  holy  city — that  is  to 
say,  in  solitude,  in  the  world,  in  the  church — everywhere,  you  will 
have  to  meet  temptation.  Our  business  is  not  to  flee,  but  to 
fight :  not  to  exchange  the  temptations  of  one  form  of  life  for 
those  of  another — temptations  so  much  the  more  dangerous  in 
such  a  case  because  of  our  own  selecting, — but  stoutly  to  con- 
tend against  the  temptations  of  that  particular  position  in  which 
it  has  pleased  God  to  place  us. 

Finally,  and  this  is  my  principal  remark — in  all  ways.      Here. 


TUE    CONFLICT    OF    CHKIST    WITH    SATAN.  V23 

once  more,  I  appeal  to  my  text.  The  devil  stops  only  after  liav- 
ing  "  ended  all  the  temptation."  Of  all  the  temptations  to  which 
Jesus  was  subjected,  that  of  the  desert  is  the  most  character- 
istic and  complete.  We  see  here  the  enemy  collecting  his  whole 
energies,  exhausting  in  turn  all  his  resources,  all  his  means.  It 
is  more  than  a  temptation,  it  is  the  temptation  ;  it  is  a  system, 
and,  so  to  speak,  an  entire  course  of  temptations.  For  the  devil 
acts  according  to  a  plan,  which  we  should  know,  and  which  the 
Holy  Ghost  reveals  to  us  :  "  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the 
eyes,  and  the  pride  of  /i/e."*  He  adhered  to  that  plan  with  Eve, 
who  yielded  to  temptation  when  she  saw,  first,  that  the  fruit 
"  was  good  for  food/^  then  "  that  it  was  pleasant  to  the  eyes," 
and  lastly,  that  it  was  "to  be  desired  to  make  one  wise."  He 
adopted  it,  especially  w^ith  Jesus,  whom  he  tempted  first  by  the 
wants  of  the  flesh  ;  secondly,  by  the  exhibition  of  earthly  pomp ; 
lastly,  by  the  pride  of  a  wonderful  miracle.  His  intention  in 
this  place  will  appear  very  clearly  if,  instead  of  simply  looking 
at  the  temptation  as  such,  you  penetrate  into  its  spirit.  Satan 
endeavors  to  make  the  Lord  succumb,  in  the  first  place,  by  a 
spirit  of  distrust  tow^ards  God  ;  then,  by  a  spirit  of  unfaithful- 
ness to  God  ;  lastly,  by  a  spirit  of  rash  confidence  in  God.  He 
appeals  in  succession  to  want  of  faith,  to  forgetfulness  of  faith, 
to  abuse  of  faith.  How  skillfully  is  all  this  contrived,  nicely 
arranged,  and  prosecuted  to  the  end ! 

Still  farther,  everything  is  an  instrument  in  the  tempter's  hands. 
When  his  own  resources  fail,  he  employs  those  that  are  used 
against  him,  and  turns  into  weapons  for  his  own  purpose,  the 
very  means  of  resistance.  Jesus  has  just  heard  a  voice  pro- 
claiming hira  as  the  Son  of  God  ;  the  devil  endeavors  to  seduce 
him  by  that  glorious  title.  Jesus  has  been  clothed  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  with  superhuman  dignity  ;  the  devil  endeavors  to  make 

*  1  John,  ii.  IG.  The  order  in  which  the  Apostle  names  the  three  great  principles  of 
human  covetousness  cannot  have  been  taken  at  random,  especially  as  that  order  occurs 
in  Eve's  temptation,  and  in  that  of  our  Lord  (as  recorded  by  St.  Luke).  It  seems  that 
the  three  temptations  were  here  arranged  according  to  their  degree  of  subtlety.  The 
first  was  a  temptation  of  the  flesh ;  the  s«cond,  of  the  eyes  ;  the  third,  oT  the  spirit. 


124  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

him  abuse  his  power.  Jesus  fasts  ;  the  devil  seeks  to  push  him 
to  extremities  by  hunger.  la  order  the  better  to  succeed,  the 
traitor  "is  transformed  into  an  angel  of  light;"  he  acts  the 
saint,  he  consents  to  make  use  of  holy  things  ;  the  holy  temple, 
the  holy  city,  and  even  the  holy  word  of  God,  are  made  avail- 
able by  his  perfidious  hands. 

Observe,  especially,  the  use  he  makes  of  the  name  Messiah, 
which  Jesus  bears.  Upon  it  he  constructs  the  whole  temptation. 
Jesus  may  exhibit  himself  as  the  Messiah,  provided  his  Messiah- 
ship  be  not  such  as  the  holy  prophets  have  described,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  conceptions  of  the  carnal-minded  Jews.  In  this  he 
expected  the  better  to  succeed,  from  the  circumstance  that  he 
was  addressing  a  Jew,  and  a  Jew  interested  in  answering  the 
expectations  of  his  countrymen.  The  Messiah  is  endued  with 
supernatural  power  :  Satan  desires  him  to  use  it,  not  according 
to  the  sense  of  the  prophets,  that  he  may  save  the  souls  of  men, 
but  according  to  the  sense  of  the  carnal  Jews,  in  satisfying  his 
carnal  desires  and  theirs — "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  com- 
mand this  stone  to  be  made  bread."  Tlie  Messiah  must  inherit 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  : — be  it  so.  Satan  desires  that 
he  receive  them,  not,  as  the  prophets  have  foretold,  from  the 
Father's  hand,  and  as  the  reward  of  his  sacrifice  ;  but  as  the 
carnal  Jews  expected,  without  a  struggle,  and  from  the  hand  of 
the  prince  of  this  world — "  If  thou  wilt  worship  me,  all  shall 
be  thine."  In  fine,  to  the  Messiah  attach  glorious  promises  of 
aid  and  of  deliverance.  Satan  wills  that  he  should  make  use 
of  these,  not,  in  the  acceptation  of  the  prophets,  that  he  may 
accomplish  his  work  of  mercy  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  in  spite 
of  Satan  himself  ;  but,  as  the  carnal  Jews  anticipated  to  forward 
his  own  glory  together  with  that  of  his  people — "  If  thou  be  the 
Son  of  God,  cast  tliyself  down  from  hence."  Such  are  the  wiles 
of  this  fallen  spirit  ;  such  are  the  coils  of  this  serpent !  So  true 
is  it  that  he  spared  no  effort  to  procure  the  downfall  of  Jesus, 
had  it  been  possible  for  him  to  fall. 

0  you,  then,  who  are  besieged,  and,  as  it  were,  overwhelmed 


THE   CONFLICT   OF   CHRIST   WITH    SATAN.  125 

with  temptations,  cease  from  your  complainings  I  When  all 
things  conspire  against  you  ;  when  your  endeavors,  your  precau- 
tions, your  supports,  your  very  prayers  become  a  snare  to  you  ; 
when  you  feel  comfortless,  weak,  abandoned  of  men,  separated 
from  God,  ready  to  die  of  anguish — cast  one  look,  one  single 
look,  at  Jesus  in  the  wilderness  !  Believe  it  ;  one  moment  spent 
with  Him  during  those  forty  painful  days,  would  have  left  you 
recollections  capable  of  strengthening  you  forever  against  the 
doubts  which  the  overwhelming  force  of  temptation  suggests, 
and  against  the  murmurs  which  it  forces  from  your  lips.  If  you 
supply,  by  faith,  that  interview,  you  will  feel  your  courage  rise. 
What  can  happen  to  you  which  has  not  happened  to  Jesus  ? 
What,  indeed,  can  you  meet  with  but  what  is  far  below  the 
trials  He  had  to  suffer  ?  No,  no,  children  of  God,  your  Father 
has  not  forgotten  you  !  He  but  deals  with  you  as  He  has  dealt 
with  His  only-begotten  and  well-beloved  Son.  In  this  are  ye 
"  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son,  that  he  might  be  the  first- 
born among  many  brethren."  "  We  have  not  an  high-priest 
which  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ;  but 
was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin.  Let 
us,  therefore,  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may 
obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need." 

Jesus  is  tempted — and  when  ?  after  what  ?  and  lefore  what  ? 

After  His  baptism,  after  His  fervent  prayer,  after  the  heavens 
have  opened  above' His  head,  after  the  Holy  Spirit  has  descended 
on  Him,  after  the  voice  from  heaven  has  been  heard  :  "  This  is 
my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased  ;"  after  all  this,  and 
even,  according  to  Mark,  "  immediately"  after.  It  is  this  moment 
of  glory  and  of  spiritual  blessing  which  is  selected  for  the  temp- 
tation. Selected  by  Satan,  because  then  the  Son  of  God  excites 
to  the  highest  degree  His  anger  and  His  jealousy  ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  selected  by  God,  because  his  Sou  is  then  better  forti- 
fied against  all  the  assaults  of  the  enemy.  When,  therefore, 
you  are  a  prey  to  temptation,  do  not  suppose  that  you  have 
been  forsaken  of  God.    If  Satan  gathers  all  his  forces  against 


126  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

you,  it  is,  perhaps,  because  signal  graces  are  making  you  the 
object  for  his  blows,  whilst,  at  the  same  time,  they  prepare  you 
to  repulse  them. 

AVe  said  that  temptation  is  the  common  lot  of  humanity  :  Jet 
us  add  that  extraordinary  temptations  constitute  the  privilege 
of  tlie  best.  God  keeps  such  trials  in  store  for  those  heroes  of 
the  faith,  whom  no  impediment  arrests,  and  no  difficulty  con- 
founds :  for  a  Moses,  a  Samuel,  a  Jeremiah,  a  poor  woman  from 
Canaan,  a  centurion  of  Capernaum,  a  Peter,  a  Paul.  Nor  is 
this  all.  He  reserves  them  not  only  for  the  strongest,  but,  far- 
ther, for  the  period  of  their  greatest  strength.  God  has  spared 
them  during  the  early  season  of  their  spiritual  career,  when  they 
could  only  lean  upon  the  conscious  piety  of  first-love  ;  just  as  a 
humane  ordinance  of  Moses  exempted  for  one  year  every  newly- 
married  man  from  the  service  of  w^ar,  in  order  that  he  might 
"  remain  at  home  and  cheer  up  his  wife  which  he  had  taken." 
But,  when  once  this  power  of  feeling  has  been  replaced  by 
another  power,  more  constant  and  firm — that  of  the  faith,  w^hich 
knows  how  "  to  hope  against  hope,"  then  comes  the  season  of 
fatigue  and  of  war  ;  then  the  Lord  calls  His  children  to  severer 
contests,  which  keep  alike  and  develop  their  holy  courage.  You 
have  just  been  baptized  with  a  fresh  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost; 
you  have  just  poured  out  your  whole  heart  before  God  in  a 
humble,  fervent  prayer ;  you  have  just  seen  heaven  opened, 
in  some  sort,  over  you,  and  heard  the  voice  of  the  Almighty, 
"  bearing  witness  with  your  spirit  that  are  a  child  of  God  :"  you 
believe  that,  for  this  time  at  least,  you  are  beyond  the  attacks 
of  the  evil  one.  Be  not  deceived.  This  is  the  very  moment 
when  you  should  expect  him,  and  place  double  watch  around 
your  heart  :  watch,  then,  and  pray.  But  also  remember,  that 
this  is  the  moment  in  which  God  has  been  careful  to  strengthen 
you  beforehand  ;  therefore,  take  courage.  It  was  when  Paul 
had  been  "caught  up. to  the  third  heaven,"  that  there  w^as 
"  given  to  him  a  thorn  in  the  flesh,  a  messenger  of  Satan  to 
buffet  him." 


THE   CONFLICT   OF   CHIITST    WITH    SATAN.  127 

And  before  what  was  Jesus  tempted  ?  Before,  immediately 
before  the  beginuing  of  His  ministry  ;  on  the  eve  of  entering 
upon  a  career  wholly  devoted  to  the  glory  of  God,  to  the  salva- 
tion of  men,  to  the  holiest  work  that  ever  was  known.  As  long 
as  Jesus  remains  at  Nazareth  concealed  in  humble  life  in  the 
workshop  of  Joseph,  we  do  not  hear  that  the  dovil  went  to  seek 
Him  ;  but  He  no  sooner  commences  His  public  duties,  He  no 
sooner  devotes  himself  to  the  mission  which  He  has  received 
from  His  heavenly  Father,  than  He  is  arrested  at  the  very 
outset.  Be  not,  then,  astonished  at  seeing  temptation  either 
approach  or  increase  when  you  are  engaged  in  some  good  work, . 
some  pious  undertaking,  some  enterprise  approved  of  God  and  , 
man. 

You  especially,  young  servants  of  the  Lord,  who  are  preparing 
to  exercise  in  His  church  the  ministry  of  the  Word,"^-  do  not 
think  that  anything  extraordinary  has  happened  to  3^ou,  if  the 
time  you  spend  in  this  holy  preparation  should  be  for  your  soul 
a  time  of  uncommon  trial.  As  long  as  you  lived  under  the 
shelter  of  the  paternal  roof  in  happy  obscurity,  the  faith  you 
imbibed  there  was  as  a  second  nature  increasing  with  your  years, 
and  seemed  to  you  so  deeply  rooted  that  no  storm  could  ever 
shake  it.  But  now,  deprived  of  a  father's  watchful  guidance, 
and  of  the  tender  counsels  of  a  faithful  mother,  called  upon  to 
face  an  unbelieving,  a  profane  world — a  world  that  tolerates  every- 
thing but  what  is  holy  and  true — now,  having  learned  enough 
in  the  science  of  divine  things  to  raise  more  than  one  perplexing- 
question,  yet  not  enough  to  solve  the  questions  raised,  you  are 
terror-stricken  by  thoughts  of  a  skeptical  nature  creeping  into 
your  heart. 

My  young  friend,  be  not  troubled  ;  this  is  the  common  history 
of  all  those  who  have  trodden  the  path  before  you  ;  it  is  the 
history  even  of  the  holiest  and  most  faithful.  "  The  enemy  hath 
done  this  ;"  and  he  does  it  because  he  sees  you  so  profitably 

*  These  three  Discourses  were  preached  before  the  Theological  Students  at  Montauban 


128  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

occupied.  lie  might,  perhaps,  consent  to  leave  you  more  at 
ease,  if  you  yourself  would  consent  to  bury  the  talent  which  you 
have  received  from  the  Lord  ;  for,  then,  by  causing  you  to  fall, 
he  would  be  injuring  you  only.  But  now  it  is  your  future  minis- 
try he  hopes  to  frustrate  ;  it  is  a  whole  people  he  hopes  to 
deprive  of  the  Word  of  life,  if  he  succeeds  in  robbing  you  of 
"your  most  holy  faith."  It  is  this  that  renders  him  so  vigilant 
and  so  active.  The  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  that  of  the 
devil  are  closely  connected  ;  the  first  provokes  the  second  ;  and 
in  the  invisible  world,  heaven  is  nigh  unto  hell.  The  Holy  Ghost 
conducts  Jesus  into  the  wilderness  where  He  is  tempted  by  the 
devil ;  and  Satan,  when  about  to  tempt  Job,  appears  "in  the 
heavenly  places,"  in  the  midst  of  "  the  sons  of  God."  Fore- 
warned as  you  are  by  the  example  of  the  Lord  himself,  fearlessly 
await  the  evil  one.  "Resist  the  devil,  and  he  will  flee  from 
you."  Poes  he  render  you  indifferent  in  the  perusal  of  the 
Bible  ?  Pursue  your  meditations  with  increased  eagerness. 
Does  he  discourage  you  in  prayer  ?  Pray  with  more  ardor,  with 
more  perseverance.  Does  he  turn  you  away  from  the  simphcity  of 
the  faith  ?  Endeavor  to  grow  in  the  disposition  of  a  little  child, 
as  well  as  in  the  learning  of  a  theologian.  As  soon  as  the  enemy 
sees  that  you  turn  his  attacks  to  your  own  advantage,  he  will 
become  weary,  and  desist  rather  than  benefit  you  so  much.  At 
any  rate,  he  can  undertake  nothing  against  you  which  the  temp- 
tation of  Jesus  Christ  should  not  have  caused  you  to  anticipate. 
The  doctors  of  the  synagogjie  themselves  can  here  instruct  you. 
One  of  their  apocryphal  books,  Ecclesiasticus,  begins  its  second 
chapter  thus  :  "  My  son,  if  thou  come  to  serve  the  Lord,  pre- 
pare thy  soul  for  temptation." 

Finally,  Jesus  is  tempted — and  lohy  ?  The  complete  answer 
to  this  question  touches  upon  those  mysteries  which  we  do  not 
pretend  to  investigate.  But  the  Scriptures  tell  us  everywhere 
that  our  Lord's  temptation  was  necessary.  "  It  behoved  him," 
the  Apostle  expressly  says,  "  to  be  made  like  in  all  things  unto 
his  brethren,  that  He  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  high 


THE    CONFLICT   OF   CHKIST   WITH   SATAN.  129 

priest  ill  all  things  pcrtaiiiiug  to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for 
the  sins  of  the  people.  For  in  that  He  himself  hath  sulTered, 
being  tempted,  He  is  able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted." 
It  was,  no  doubt,  necessary  likewise,  to  justify,  by  the  victory 
•of  Jesus  Christ,  the  condemnation  of  man,  overcome  in  the  same 
conflict :  to  fill  the  measure  of  the  Messiah's  expiatory  suffer- 
ings ;  to  begin  to  exhibit  in  him,  before  the  face  of  heaven,  of 
earth,  of  hell,  that  the  Son  of  God  was  manifested,  "  that  He 
might  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil ;"  perhaps,  for  aught  wc 
know,  to  reveal  Him  completely  to  himself,  to  make  Him  "  per- 
fect through  trial,"  and  to  carry  Him  forward,  "  conquering  and 
to  conquer."  Whatever  the  reason  may  be,  it  was  necessary  that 
Jesus  should  be  tempted  ;  that  is  enough.  The  temptation  was 
no  mere  accident  in  His  life  ;  it  was  useful,  essential  to  it ;  it 
entered  into  the  plan  of  our  redemption.  All  the  images  under 
which  the  prophets  had  described  the  coming  Messiah,  looked 
to  a  strife  between  himself  and  the  spirit  of  darkness — a  strife, 
of  which  the  narrative  supplied  by  the  text  is  but  the  prelude. 
Having  come  to  establish  a  kingdom,  but  to  establish  it  upon 
the  ruins  of  a  usurper,  the  Messiah — that  true  Joshua — could 
obtain  His  dominion  only  by  conquest ;  He  could  receive  "  the 
inheritance  of  the  nations"  only  by  wresting  it  from  "the  prince 
of  this  world."  The  Jews  had  understood  it  thus  themselves, 
and  it  was  an  article  in  their  belief  that  the  Messiah  should  be 
tempted  by  Satan  at  the  very  outset  of  his  career.  Our  text,  in 
its  turn,  acknowledges  in  the  temptation  this  kind  of  necessity. 
Everything  is  foreseen,  arranged,  willed  by  God.  Jesus  "  is  led," 
or,  as  Mark  has  it,  ''driven  by  the  spirit"  into  the  wilderness, 
where  He  is  tempted  by  the  devil*  Matthew  expresses  himself 
in  terms  still  more  positive  :  "He  was  led  up  of  the  spirit  into 
the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil."  The  devil  tempts 
Him,  and  then  departs  from  Him,  "  having  ended  all  the  temp- 
tation ;"  as  having  played  his  part,  for  we  know  that  whilst 

*  Mark  i.  12 ;  the  expression  of  the  Evangelist  has  peculiar  energy,  it  signifies  cast, 
ihrovm. 


130  ADOLPIIE   MONOD.  '' 

tempting  Jesus,  as  well  as  whilst  crucifying  Him,  he  could  only 
do  whatsoever  "  the  hand  and  the  counsel  of  God  determined 
before  to  be  done." 

Let  us  learn  from  this,  my  dear  friends,  that  the  trials  of 
which  we  complain  are  useful  to  us  also,  essential  to  perfect  our 
hohness,  and  to  fit  us  for  the  work  which  God  hath  given 
us  to  do  in  the  world.  "  God,"  says  James,  "  tempteth  no 
man,"  because  he  never  drives  us  to  sin  ;  but  he  may  bring  us 
into  temptation,  as  h(  did  in  the  case  of  his  Son,  in  order  to 
"  prove  us,  and  to  know  what  is  in  our  heart."  If  we  resist 
temptation,  we  come  forth  from  it  stronger  and  more  devoted, 
purified  as  gold  in  the  fire.  But  if  we  yield,  then,  no  doubt,  we 
bear  the  punishment  of  our  cowardice  ;  although,  even  then,  if 
repentance  lifts  us  up  again,  we  have,  at  least,  learned  to 
know  our  own  weakness,  and  to  seek  our  strength  only  in  the 
Lord. 

It  is  by  this  incessant  battle  while  proceeding  from  victory  to 
victory — or,  alas  !  instead  of  constant  victories  alternate  vic- 
tories and  defeats — that  the  wholesome  exercise,  of  our  faith 
acquires  its  development.  The  tempest  prostrates  and  uproots 
the  tree  slightly  rooted  in  the  soil  ;  but,  if  it  shakes  the  one 
whose  grasp  is  firm,  it  is  only  for  the  purpose  of  driving  deeper 
and  deeper  down  those  thousand  hidden  arms  by  which  it  pene- 
trates and  clings  firmly  to  the  earth.  "  Tribulation,"  the 
Apostle  writes,  "  worketh  patience,  patience  experience,  and  ex- 
perience hope."  *  What  is  here  said  of  tribulation,  that  species 
of  temptation  most  frequently  dwelt  upon  in  the  Word  of  God, 
is  also  true  of  all  other  forms.     And  hence  the  Apostle  James, 


*  Rom.  V.  8,  4.  In  order  to  understand  distinctly  these  deep  truths,  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  experience  here  means,  the  test  which  tribulation  makes  of  our  faith,  and 
the  tested  (or  tried)  character  it  imparts  to  it.  Jlope,  likewise,  does  not  signify  an  ex- 
pectation more  or  less  uncertain,  but  the  firm  assurance  of  those  good  things  to  come 
which  we  as  yet  possess  only  by  faith  (Horn.  viii.  22,  2-1).  "\\hen  we  are  afflicted,  we 
are  exercised  to  patience ;  when  we  have  suffered  with  patience  we  know  on  trial  our 
faith  to  be  genuine  ;  and  when  our  faith  has  thus  been  tried,  we  have  a  firm  and  glorious 
assurance  in  the  grace  of  the  Lord. 


THE   COXFLICT   OF   CHRIST    WITH    SATAN.  131 

in  the  energetic  and  paradoxical  language  so  peculiar  to  him, 
exhorts  us  "  to  count  it  all  joy  when  we  fall  into  divers  tempta- 
tions ;  and  calls  "  blessed,"  not  the  man  who  is  not  tempted, 
but  him  who  "  mdureth  temptatiGn,^^  that  is  to  say,  who  under- 
goes it  without  yielding  to  it  ;  for,  "  when  he  is  tried,"  riz  : 
when  he  has  resisted  in  seasons  of  trial,  "  he  shall  receive  the 
crown  of  life,  which  the  Lord  has  promised  to  them  that  love 
him." 

If  Jesus  needed  his  temptation,  we  need  ours  also.  Satan's 
work  is  necessary  to  complete  that  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ;  and  in 
this  world  nothing  comes  to  perfection  except  it  has  been  helped 
on  by  the  devil.  In  order  to  enlighten  Job's  faith,  to  strengthen 
his  heart  and  perfect  his  joy,  the  cruel  display  of  Satan's  malice 
was  necessary.  The  perfidious  detractors  who  cast  Daniel  into 
the  lion's  den  were  necessary  to  him,  in  order  that  he  might 
know  during  the  peaceful  night  which  he  spent  amidst  those  ter- 
rible animals,  all  the  power,  and  all  the  faithfulness  of  his  God. 
Paul  needed  that  "  thorn  in  his  flesh,"  that  "  messenger  of 
Satan  sent  to  buffet  him,"  that  he  might  be  kept  humble,  and 
not  "  exalted' above  measure  through  the  abundance  of  his  re- 
velations ;"  that  he  might  feel  the  power  of  that  word  which 
comforted  him,  and  which  will  comfort  the  saints  to  the  end  of 
time — "  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong."  Peter  needed 
that  court  of  the  high  priest,  to  show  him  his  own  weakness  ;  so 
that  after  the  confession  and  the  forgiveness  of  his  sin,  he  might 
reappear  in  the  eyes  of  the  church  worthier  than  ever  of  the 
distinction  which  the  Lord  had  bestowed  upon  him,  and  which 
he  continued  to  him  notwithstanding  his  fall.  Chrysostom 
needed  the  anger  of  his  master  ;  Augustine,  the  perils  of  his 
youth  ;  Luther,  the  mortal  conflicts  of  his  soul  ;  Calvin,  his 
weak  health  and  his  implacable  enemies. 

And  you,  my  dear  brother,  whom  Satan  seems  to  have  selected 
as  the  object  of  his  most  powerful  attacks  ;  you  upon  whose 
downfall  his  whole  pride  appears  bent  ;  you  who  are  driven  to 
the  last  extremity,  and  ready  to  succomb  ;  you  who  join  in  the 


132  ADOLPIIE   MONOD. 

Messiah's  cry  of  anguish  in  the  Psalms  :  "  I  am  come  into  deep 
waters,  where  the  floods  overflow  me.  .  .  .  my  throat  is  dried  ; 
mine  eyes  fail  while  I  wait  for  my  God  " — be  assured,  all  this 
was  necessary  for  you  ;  it  was  the  very  thing  you  required  to 
teach  you  to  serve  God,  to  confound  the  great  adversary,  and  to 
fill  you  with  "joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory  !"  You  are  a 
child  of  God,  his  beloved,  his  privileged  child  ;  and,  in  very 
truth,  if  we  could  rise  above  the  flesh,  and  judge  according  to 
the  word  of  God,  we  should  be  more  inclined  to  envy  than  to 
pity  you.  "  Cast  not  away,  therefore,  your  confidence,  which 
hath  great  recompense  of  reward  ;"  but  rather  resist,  hold  fast 
unto  the  end,  give  glory  to  God,  and  abound  in  thanksgiving  1 

Young  servants  of  God,  if  temptation  is  necessary  for  all,  it 
is  doubly  so  for  you.  This  fight  which  you  are  beginning  to 
carry  on  against  the  opposition  of  the  world,  and  especially 
against  the  natural  unbelief  of  your  own  hearts,  should  not  sur- 
prise you.  It  is  the  narrow  path  through  which  you  must  pro- 
ceed, in  order  to  reach  a  firmer  faith  ;  in  order  to  learn,  as  your 
Saviour  did,  by  the  anguish  of  temptation,  to  sympathize  one 
day  with  the  infirmities  of  others,  and  to  succor  those  that  are 
tempted.  Listen  to  what  was  said  on  this  subject  by  a  great 
master  in  the  school  of  Christian  experience — a  hero  who  fought 
valiantly  against  the  powers  of  the  world  and  of  hell.  Luther, 
writing  to  a  young  theologian,  makes  him  observe,  in  the  119th 
Psalm,  three  principal  means  by  which  the  inspired  writer 
strengthens  himself  in  the  divine  life — prayer,  meditation  on  the 
Scriptures,  and  temptation  ;  and  hear  how  he  expresses  himself 
on  the  last  of  these  three  points  : 

"  Temptation  is  the  touchstone  which  will  make  you  not  only 
know  and  understand,  but  feel,  how  correct  the  Word  of  God  is, 
how  true,  how  sweet,  how  lovely,  how  powerful,  how  consoling, 
how  wise  above  all  other  wisdom.  Without  temptation  there  arc 
no  good  preachers,  but  only  mere  babblers,  who  know  not  them- 
selves of  what  they  speak,  nor  why  ;  as  says  Paul  to  Timothy, 
'  desiring  to  be  teachers  of  the  law,  understanding  neither  what 


THE    CONFLICT    OF    CHRIST    WITH    SATAN.  133 

they  say,  nor  whereof  they  affirm.'  This  is  why  you  see  David 
ill  our  psahii  often  complaining  of  all  sorts  of  enemies,  oppressors, 
rebellious  and  obstinate  spirits,  whom  he  must  endure,  because 
he  carries  everywhere  with  him  the  Word  of  God.  For  as  soon 
as  you  begin  to  give  your  witness  to  the  Word  of  God,  the 
devil  v^ill  endeavor  to  tempt  you,  that  you  may  become  a  good 
divine,  and  that  through  the  trials  by  which  he  visits  you,  you 
may  learn  to  explore  and  to  love  this  Word  of  life.  I  am  under 
the  greatest  obligations  to  the  Papists  myself,  who,  with  the  aid 
of  all  the  din  of  Satan,  have  so  ill-treated  me,  and  driven  me  to 
such  an  extremity  of  anguish,  that  they  have  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing of  me  a  tolerable  theologian,  which  I  never  could  have  been 
but  for  their  assistance  ;  and  as  for  what,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  have  gained  from  me,  I  willingly  yield  to  them  the  honors, 
the  victories,  and  the  triumphs,  which  make  up  the  whole  object 
of  their  desires." 

Lord  Jesus  !  we  would  no  more  complain  of  temptation.  We 
have  this  day  found  thee  in  the  wilderness  ;  thither  we  will  not 
refuse  to  follow  thee.  We  have  glanced  at  what  thou  hast  suf- 
fered, being  tempted,  and  the  sight  has  affected  us  to  the  very 
depth  of  our  hearts.  Thou  didst  endure  temptation  in  order  to 
be  like  unto  us  ;  shall  we  not  consent  to  suffer  that  we  also  may  be 
like  unto  thee?  We  distrust  ourselves.  Lord,  and,  as  thou  didst 
teach  us,  we  say  :  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation  I"  But  if  into 
temptation  we  must  be  led,  then,  we  confidently  add,  as  thou 
hast  further  taught  us  :  "  DeUver  us  from  the  Evil  One  !"  It  is 
enough  for  us  to  remember  that  we  have  in  thee  "  a  merciful  and 
faithful  high  priest,  who,  because  he  has  himself  suffered,  being 
tempted,  can  also  succor  those  who  are  tempted."  How  sweet  is 
this  thought  to  us,  0  Lord  1  Thus,  whatever  be  our  temptations, 
thou  hast  known  them  before  us,  thou  hast  beforehand  overcome 
them  for  us  1  Therefore  it  is.  Oh,  our  compassionate  Saviour  ! 
that  we  pour  out  our  hearts  in  thy  presence  with  a  holy  free- 
dom ;  and  were  it  possible  for  us  to  be  tried  as  thou  wert  thy- 
6clf  tried,  still  would  we  "  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace, 


134  ADOLniE   MONOD. 

that  we  miglit  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of 
need."  It  is  not  at  us  that  thine  enemy  and  ours  levels  his 
blows  ;  thee,  thee  alone,  he  attacks  in  us  :  Thou,  therefore,  must 
defend  us  !  Triumph  over  him  in  us  !  And  since  thou  hast 
been  tempted  like  as  we  are,  make  us  conquerors  like  unto  thy^ 
self  I     Amen. 


"4 


DISCOURSE  Y. 

THE  VICTORY  OF  CHRIST  OVER  SATAN. 

"  Arid  Jesiis,  being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  returned  from  Jordan,  and  -was  led  by  the 
Bpuit  into  the  mlderness,  being  forty  days  tempted  of  the  devil,"  etc. — Luke  iv.  1-13. 

My  dear  Christian  Friends  : 

The  conflict  of  Jesus  has  reconciled  us  to  that  which  we  must 
endure  :  His  victory  will  be  a  pledge  that  we  too  shall  conquer 
in  turn. 

That  w'hich  makes  us  feeble  to  resist  temptation,  is  our  uncer- 
tainty as  to  the  issue  of  the  strife.  Nothing  w^ould  be  impos- 
sible to  us,  w^ere  we  assured  of  victory  ;  but  doubt,  bitter  doubt, 
destroys  our  courage.  You  are  tempted  by  a  spirit  of  sloth  ; 
you  wish  you  could  become  "  fervent  in  spirit,"  and  "  instant  in 
prayer  ;"  but  you  doubt  whether  you  can  overcome  your  spi- 
ritual indolence — and,  in  spite  of  yourself,  you  continue  to  creep 
slowly  along  the  path  in  which  God  invites  you  to  run.  You 
are  tempted  by  a  spirit  of  discontent  :  under  the  weight  of  a 
heavy  and  prolonged  affliction,  you  wish  you  could  abound  in 
thanksgiving  ;  but  you  doubt  w'hether  you  wall  be  able  to  over- 
come the  grief  which  oppresses  you — and  your  life  continues  to 
be  spent  in  fruitless  and  ungrateful  complainings.  You  are 
tempted  by  a  spirit  of  unbelief ;  you  wish  you  could  rely  upon 
God's  word  with  an  unshaken  confidence  ;  you  well  know  that 
from  this  source  must  come  your  peace,  your  strength,  your 
satisfaction  ;  but  you  doubt  whether  you  will  be  able  to  eradi- 

135 


136  ADOLPHE   MOXOD. 

cate  a  sluggishness  of  faith  which  has  been  fostered  by  tempera- 
ment, by  education,  by  example,  by  habit — and  you  go  on 
wretchedly  vacillating  between  the  truth  of  God  and  the  cavils 
of  the  natural  heart.  You  are  tempted  by  a  spirit  of  lust  ; 
while  abstaining  from  such  excesses  as  would  dishonor  your 
Christian  profession,  "  you  make  provision  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfitl 
the  lust  thereof,"  and  you  feel  weighed  down  under  a  humiliating 
yoke  which  is  burdensome  to  bear  ;  but  you  doubt  whether  you 
can  address  yourself  to  a  life  of  self-sacrificing  devotion — and 
you  go  on  indulging  in  a  pleasurable  and  enervating  indolence. 

Oh  !  you,  who  recognize  yourselves  in  this  sad  picture,  come 
and  learn  from  the  history  of  my  text,  that  you  can  conquer 
every  temptation.  Jesus,  like  you,  has  been  tempted  ;  and 
while  the  first  Adam  yielded  in  Eden,  the  second  Adam  has 
gained  a  universal  conquest  in  the  wilderness.  His  victory  is 
complete.  After  forty  days  of  unceasing  attacks,  after  a  final 
and  desperate  assault,  the  adversaiy  sees  himself  at  last  com- 
pelled to  raise  the  siege,  asliamed  and  convinced  of  his  weak- 
ness, and  Jesus  has  acquired  the  right  to  say  :  "  The  prince  of 
this  world  has  nothing  in  me."  Not  one  of  "the  fiery  darts  of 
the  wicked"  could  find  an  open  way  to  His  heart.  It  is  written: 
"  He  vy  as  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin  ;" 
no  sin  before  nor  with  the  temptation  ;  no  sin  after  the  tempta- 
tion, nor  proceeding  from  it.  In  him  we  have  "  an  high  priest  who 
is  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  separate  from  sinners."  Well,  if  Jesus 
has  thus  conquered,  you  too  may  conquer. 

Here,  as  before,  we  must  begin  by  setting  aside  the  mysterious 
part  of  our  subject,  and  the  questions  more  curious  than  useful 
to  which  it  has  given  rise.  Between  the  temptation  of  Jesus  and 
our  temptation,  the  analogy  is  not  complete  ;  for,  as  children  of 
a  corrupt  race,  we  harbor  within  us  lusts  which  Jesus  never 
knew.  Although  He  took  upon  himself  the  infirmities  which  sin 
had  introduced  into  our  nature,  far  be  it  from  us  to  suppose  that 
He  shared  in  the  slightest  measure  the  sinful  tendency  itself.  We 
may  distinguish  three  kinds  of  temptations  :  that  of  Jesus,  that 


THE  VICTORY   OF   CHRIST   OVER   SATAN.  137 

of  Adam,  and  our  own  ;  the  first  was  without  shi,  both  before 
and  after  tlie  trial  ;  the  second  without  sin  before  the  trial,  but 
not  after  ;  the  third  accompanied  by  sin  before,  as  well  as  after, 
according  to  the  declaration  of  St.  James  in  that  passage  of  his 
epistle  :  "  Every  man  is  tempted,  when  he  is  drawn  away  of  his 
own  lust,  and  enticed  ;  then  when  lust  hath  conceived,  it  bringeth 
forth  sin."  Ilence,  upon  the  moral  character  of  temptation,  and 
the  degree  of  holiness  to  which  we  can  attain  during  this  life, 
have  arisen  those  questions  which  have  more  than  once  agitated 
the  church,  but  which  we  think  it  neither  necessary  nor  possible 
satisfactorily  to  solve.  However  this  may  be,  I  here  confine 
myself  to  the  application  which  concerns  us  in  our  actual  condi- 
tion, and  I  leave  the  subject  on  that  practical  ground  chosen  by 
the  Apostle  James  in  the  words  just  quoted.  Our  business  is  to 
prevent  lust  from  conceiving,  and  from  bringing  forth  sin  ;  we 
can  always  do  this.  Of  all  the  temptations  you  encounter  on 
your  way,  there  is  not  one  which  you  cannot  overcome,  as  Jesus 
overcame  his,  and  as  Adam  might  have  overcome  his  also.  Thus, 
you  who  are  tempted  by  a  spirit  of  sloth,  can  "  have  life,  and 
have  it  more  abundantly."  You  who  are  tried  by  a  spirit  of 
discontent,  can  ''rejoice  evermore,"  and  sing  aloud ''with  the 
voice  of  thanksgiving."  You  who  are  tempted  by  a  spirit  of 
unbelief,  can  "  continue  in  the  faith,  stablished,  strengthened, 
and  settled  ;"  and  you  who  are  tried  by  a  spirit  of  sensuality, 
can  "  keep  under  your  body,  bring  it  into  subjection,  and  mor- 
tify its  deeds  through  the  spirit."  You  can  do  it :  for,  what  you 
are  called  upon  to  do,  Jesus  has  already  done. 

Perhaps  you  will  answer  :  Jesus  was  the  Son  of  God  ;  His  vic- 
tory proves  nothing  as  to  us.  If  such  an  objection  were  valid 
here,  it  would  be  equally  so  elsewJiere.  Then  would  it  be  vain 
to  set  forth  the  pattern  of  Jesus  before  men  ;  then  would  the 
Holy  Spirit  have  said  in  vain  :  "  Christ  has  left  us  an  example, 
that  we  should  follow  His  steps."  But  this  objection  comes  from 
a  source  which  accounts  for  many  other  errors,  both  of  doctrine 
and  of  practice  ;  which  is,  that  we  ignore,  or,  at  all  events,  lose 


138  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

sight  of  the  human  nature  of  our  Lord,  which  it  is  quite  as 
necessary  to  be  kept  in  mind  as  His  divinity.  Yes,  Jesus  was 
the  Son  of  God,  but  He  was  also  the  Son  of  man  ;  and  as  it  was 
in  His  human  nature  that  He  was  tempted,  in  His  human  nature 
likewise  He  overcame  temptation.  In  thus  speaking,  we  by  no 
means  leave  out  of  sight  the  divine  nature  of  the  Lord  in 
the  narrative  of  the  text.  We  do  not  forget  that  Jesus  had 
been,  immediately  before  the  temptation,  declared  to  be  the^  Son 
of  God,  filled  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  thereby  strengthened 
for  the  conflict  w^iich  awaited  Him.  I  would  only  have  you 
observe,  my  dear  friends,  that  during  the  conflict  itself  the  nar- 
rative of  the  Evangelists  shows  us  in  Jesus  the  Son  of  Man  alone, 
while  the  Son  of  God  disappears.  And  yet  I  mistake — the  Son 
of  God  does  show  himself,  but  only  in  the  words  of  Satan. 
The  devil  reminds  Jesus  of  that  title,  for  the  purpose  of  tempt- 
ing Him  now  by  doubt,  then  through  presumption,  and  then 
again  through  ambition  :  but  Jesus  does  not  make  use  of  it  as  a 
means  of  defence.  Had  He  wished  to  display  His  divine  power, 
He  might  have  prayed — as  He  himself  declared  in  that  other 
struggle  which  marked  the  close  of  his  career — "  to  His  Father, 
who  would  have  given  Him  more  than  twelve  legions  of  angels." 
What  do  I  say  ?  He  needed  no  angel  ;  one  word  from  His  lips, 
and  Satan  would  have  been  overthrown  like  the  messengers  from 
the  Sanhedrim  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane.  But  He  does 
nothing  of  the  kind  ;  He  confines  His  energy  to  man's  sphere  of 
action.  He  wrestles  against  Satan  with  man's  infirmities,  and 
with  the  means  which  man  has  at  his  disposal.  He  endures 
hunger,  and  allows  himself  to  be  approached,  parleyed  with,  and 
tempted  like  a  man.  Like  a  man.  He  stands  through  confidence 
in  God,  and  triumphs  by  the  power  of  God.*  Above  all,  like  a 
man,  He  quotes  the  Scriptures,  which  were  written  by  men  for  men. 
As  we  see  Him  on  another  occasion  in  His  anguish  supported  by 
an  angel — Him  "  whom  the  angels  of  God  worship  " — so  we  here 

*  Ephes.  vi.  10,  and  following  verses.    In  Ibis  passage  St.  Paul  seems  to  allude  to  our 
Lord's  conflict. 


THE   VICTORY    OF   CHRIST    OVER    SATAN.  139 

see  Him  resting  upon  Moses,  Lord  and  master  of  Moses  as  lie 
is  1  Wondrous  source  of  astonishment  and  of  admiration  !  Wliat 
need  had  He  to  turn  over  as  we  do  the  books  of  His  servant,  in 
order  to  find  answers  to  the  seductions  of  the  evil  one  ?  Might 
He  not  have  drawn  them  from  His  own  resources  ?  Is  He  not 
the  on]}'^begotten  Son  who  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,"  who 
is  in  heaven,  and  who  "  speaketh  from  heaven  ?"  Yes,  but  it 
was  necessary  that  here  He  should  speak  from  earth,  to  be  an 
example  for  those  who  are  "  of  the  earth."  This  remark  is  so 
true,  that,  not  satisfied  with  appealing  only  to  the  Scriptures,  . 
He  selects  from  the  Scriptures  only  those  passages  which  apply 
indiscriminately  to  all  believers.  As  for  the  numerous  testimo- 
nies concerning  the  Messiah  exclusively,  and  which  ^'uarantee  to 
Him  the  victory,  Hc.alludes  to  none  of  them — so  resolved  is  He 
to  draw  merely  from  the  common  treasury  of  the  whole  church. 
The  more  extraordinary  this  circumstance,  the  more  manifest  is 
its  intention.  Against  a  temptation  common  to  man,  Jesus 
gains  by  human  resources  a  human  victory,  to  teach  human 
beings  that  they  may  overcome  even  as  He  overcame. 

Still  farther  :  not  only  did  Jesus  conquer  in  humanity,  but  for 
humanity.  Engaged  in  the  contest  of  the  wilderness  as  the 
Saviour  and  representative  of  man,  it  is  in  the  name  and  on  the 
behalf  of  man  that  he  gains  a  victory,  the  fruits  of  which  will 
be  gathered  by  all  who  believe  in  his  name.  Had  he  not  con- 
quered for  us,  how  could  his  triumph  strengthen  us  against  the 
tribulations  of  the  world  ?  ''In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribu- 
lation :  but  be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  overcome  the  world.  He 
alone  could  "bind  the  strong  man  ;"  but  the  strong  man  once 
bound,  he  does  not  enter  alone  "the  strong  man's  house,  and 
spoil  his  goods  ; "  we  also  enter  after  him.  Satan  is  already 
defeated,  before  he  attacks  us  ;  and  his  power  is  so  much  the 
less  against  us,  as  he  finds  Him  present  in  us  by  whom  he  was 
vanquished  in  the  wilderness.  The  victory  is  made  so  sure  unto 
us  in  Jesus,  that  the  Scriptures  represent  us  as  having  already 
obtained  it  ;  "Ye  are  strong,  and  the  word  of  God  abideth  in 


140  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

you,  and  ye  have  overcome  the  wicked  one."  In  Jesus  all  is 
accomplished  ;  "  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through  him  that 
loved  us  :"  nothing  more  is  left  for  us  except  to  join  in  his 
triumph,  and  in  order  to  join  in  it  we  liave  only  to  believe  on 
his  name  :  ''  Whosoever  is  born  of  God  overcometh  the  world  ; 
and  this  is  the  victory  that  overcoraeth  the  world,  even  our 
faith."  "  That  roaring  lion  who  walketh  about,  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour,"  is,  no  doubt,  formidable  :  but  he  has  vainly 
tried  his  strength  against  "  the  lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  the 
root  of  David,  who  hath  prevailed,"*  and  to  whom  the  spirit  of 
prophecy  thus  speaketh  :  "  From  the  prey,  my  son,  thou  art  gone 
up  ;  he  stooped  down,  he  couched  as  a  lion,  and  as  a  terrible 
lion  ;  who  shall  rouse  him  up  ?"f  He  alone  is  invincible,  and  it 
is  he  who  fights  for  us  :  "  For  thus  hath  the  Lord  spoken  unto 
me  :  Like  as  the  lion  and  the  young  lion  roaring  on  his  prey, 
when  a  multitude  of  shepherds  is  called  forth  against  him,  he 
will  not  be  afraid  of  their  voice  nor  abase  himself  for  their  num- 
ber, so  shall  the  Lord  of  hosts  come  down  to  fight  for  Mount 
Zion,  and  for  the  hill  thereof."  J  Fear  not  :  "  greater  is  he  that 
is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  in  the  world."§ 

Let  us  then  rest  assured  that  the  victory  of  Jesus  guarantees 
our  own,  and  that  we  shall  find  in  him  efficient  aid,  since  he  him- 
self has  met  and  overcome  temptation.  Such  is  the  idea  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  those  two  passages  from  the  Epistle  to  the  He- 
brews which  we  have  already  cited  :  "Because  he  himself  has 
suffered,  being  tempted,  he  is  able  to  succor  them  that  are 
tempted  ;"  and  again  :  "As  he  was  in  all  points  tempted  like 
as  we  are,  yet  without  sin,  let  us  therefore  come  boldly  unto  the 
throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to 
help  in  time  of  need." 


♦  Rev.  V.  5.  t  Gen.  xlix.  9.  t  Isaiah,  xxxi.  4. 

§  1  John  iv.  4.  Compare  witli  this  passage  2  Kings  vi.  16 :  "  Fear  not,  for  they  that  be 
with  us  are  more  than  they  that  be  with  them  ;  "  and  2  Chron.  xxxii.  7 :  "Be  not  afraid 
nor  dismayed  for  the  king  of  Assyria,  nor  for  aU  the  multitude  that  is  with  him  ;  for  one 
more  powerful  than  all  that  are  with  him  is  with  us." 


THE   VICTORY    OF   CHRIST   OVER    SATAN.  141 

I  might  stop  here  :  this  doctrine  is  sufficiently  established, 
especially  as  supported  by  the  narrative  before  us  :  but  the  soul 
that  is  "  weary  and  heavy  laden"  is  not  so  readily  assured  :  it 
wants  new  encouragements,  which  I  have  no  disposition  to  refuse. 
In  the  presence  of  temptation,  it  is  tormented  by  two  things  : 
its  own  weakness,  and  the  strength  of  the  temptation.  If  we 
examine  ourselves,  we  find  that  we  are  unable  to  resist  even  the 
most  ordinary  temptation  ;  and  if  we  consider  the  temptation, 
we  see  that  it  is  strong  enough  to  overwhelm  us,  even  when  we 
are  strongest.  But  let  us  once  more  draw  nigh  unto  Jesus 
tempted  in  the  wilderness  :  his  victory  will  help  to  reassure  us 
in  both  these  respects. 

You  are  weak,  my  dear  brother  ;  so  weak,  so  languishing,  so 
destitute,  so  cast  down  both  in  body  and  in  mind,  that  you  find 
yourself  unable  to  overcome  the  least  temptation.  Such,  indeed, 
would  be  the  case,  if  you  were  left  to  triumph  in  your  own 
strength.  But  do  you  suppose  that  it  was  in  his  own  strength 
that  your  Lord  triumphed  in  the  desert  ?  You  conceive  of  him, 
perhaps,  as  a  stranger  to  all  your  weakness — calm,  unmovable. 
But  this  portrait  is  the  work  of  your  imagination,  not  of  the 
Scriptures.  They  show  the  Messiah  to  us  as  "a  man  of  sor- 
rows, and  acquainted  with  grief."  They  say  nothing,  it  is  true, 
about  the  state  of  his  mind  during  the  struggle  in  the  desert ;  and 
it  does  not  become  us  to  supply  what  they  have  left  unsaid,  nor 
to  state  how  far  his  forty  days'  fast  must  have  exhausted  his 
strength  or  impaired  his  courage.  But  the  Scriptures  exhibit 
the  Saviour  elsewhere  under  tlie  weight  of  sufferings  which  you 
have  never  known — in  Gethsemane,  "  exceeding  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death,  falling  on  his  face,  and  praying  in  agony,  while  his 
sweat  was  as  it  were  great  drops  of  blood  falling  to  the  ground." 
They  exhibit  him  on  the  cross  crying  to  his  God  :  "  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?"  Where,  then,  does  he  find 
his  strength  ?  In  God.  The  aim  of  the  whole  temptation  is  to 
separate  him  from  God  :  first,  let  him  provide  for  his  own  wants 
independently  of  the  providence  of  God  ;  then,  let  him  receive 


14:2  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

the  ownersllip  of  the  nations,  but  not  as  the  gift  of  God  ; 
finally,  let  him  display  his  divine  glory  without  the  command  of 
God.  But  solely  upon  God  does  Jesus  rely  :  it  is  not  in  his 
own  strength  that  he  wrestles  and  conquers  ;  but  in  the  strength 
of  his  Father. 

Receive  instruction,  then,  my  dear  friends.  '^  If  you  are  less 
strong  than  Jesus,  your  God  is  not  less  strong  than  the  God  of 
Jesus.  Let  this  rock  be  your  rock,  and  His  strength  shall  be 
your  strength.  For  Jesus,  for  Adam,  for  yourselves,  the  ques- 
tion here  is  not  a  question  of  strength  ;  it  is  one  of  faith.  As 
your  own  strength  could  not  deliver  you  withoiU  faith,  so  neither 
can  your  own  weakness  injure  you  with  faith.  Nay,  if  advantage 
be  taken  of  it,  this  weakness  may  be  of  service  to  you  ;  and  a 
sense  of  it  driving  you,  it  may  be,  to  seek  God's  help,  you  will 
experience  the  truth  of  this  word  :  "When  I  am  weak,  then  am 
I  strong."  Strange  paradox  1  sublime  truth  !  Instead  of  stop- 
ping to  discuss  it,  believe  it,  live  upon  it.  You  are,  my  dear 
brother,  poor  and  languisliiug,  downcast  in  body  and  in  mind, 
incapable  of  overcoming  the  least  temptation  !  This  is  wtII, 
you  are  in  the  very  condition  wdiich  will  enable  you  to  triumph. 
Now  it  is,  that  conscious  of  all  the  illusions  of  pride,  and  abso- 
lutely despairing  of  yourself,  you  will  seek  to  "be  strong  in  the 
Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  His  might ;"  now  it  is  that  you  will 
"  take  unto  you  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  you  may  be  able 
to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the  devil."  Chng  to  God,  as  the 
branch  does  to  the  vine;  in  Him  you  will  find  "grace  to  help 
in  time  of  need."  In  time  of  need,  note  well  this  expression  ;  it  is 
for  the  moment  of  need  that  His  strength  is  promised  you. 
You  would  like  to  enjoy  it  beforehand,  to  reassure  yourself 
against  the  terrors  of  the  future,  by  a  complacent  consideration 
of  your  spiritual  supplies.  But  such  are  not  the  Lord's  ways  ; 
He  does  not  give  you  to-day  what  you  require  for  to-morrow  ; 
but  He  will  certainly  supply  to-day  for  to-day,  and  to-morrow  for 
to-morrow.  The  man  whose  hand  was  withered,  and  to  whom 
Jesus  said  :  "  Stretch  out  thine  hand,"  would  never  have  done 


1 


THE   VICTORY    OF   CIIKIST   OVER   SATAN.  143 

SO,  if  lie  had  waited  to  receive  beforehand  the  strength  requisite 
for  that  act  ;  but  at  the  Lord's  word  he  stretches  out  liis  hand, 
and  lo,  it  is  healed — "  only  believe,  and  thou  shalt  see  the  glory 
of  God  !" 

The  temptation,  you  say  again,  is  strong,  terrible,  overwhelming  ! 
But  was  that  of  Jesus  less  so?  Compare  it  with  that  of  Adam. 
The  Scriptures  themselves  suggest  the  parallel,  for  it  is  not  witli- 
out  design  that  one  of  those  temptations  has  been  placed  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  the  other  at  the  opening 
of  the  New  ;  opposing  here  as  everywhere,  "  the  second  Adam  " 
to  ''the  first."  Adam  is  tempted  in  Eden,*  Jesus,  in  the  wilder- 
ness ;  Adam,  amidst  the  abundance  of  all  things ;  Jesus,  in 
want  and  in  hunger.  Adam  is  tempted  once  and  falls,  Jesus  is 
tempted  three  times,  we  should  say  rather  He  is  tempted  for  forty 
days,  and  He  resists.  And  what  a  temptation  !  How  subtle, 
how  perfidious — mixing  so  adroitly  truth  and  falsehood,  good 
and  evil,  that  it  seems  impossible  to  separate  them  !  Verily, 
this  is  the  masterpiece  of  the  spirit  of  darkness.  It  is  true,  as 
we  have  already  stated,  that  we  cannot  exactly  balance  the 
Lord's  temptation  either  with  Adam's  or  our  own  ;  but  we  know 
at  least,  that  He  had  to  undergo  a  conflict,  by  a  mystery  which 
we  do  not  attempt  to  penetrate,  a  terrible  conflict,  of  which  the 
anguish  of  Golgotha  and  Gethsemane  can  give  us  some  idea. 
But  what  signifies  the  strength  of  the  temptation  ?  It  is  enough 
that  it  was  the  Holy  Ghost  who  led  Jesus  into  the  wilderness 
to  be  tempted  there.  God,  who  allows  the  trial,  is  also  He 
who  measures  it  ;  and  He  will  have  taken  care,  you  may  be 
sure,  to  strengthen  His  Son  for  the  combat  according  to  His 
need.  He  will  do  the  same,  my  dear  friends,  for  you  ;  and  this 
is  why  no  temptation,  present  or  to  come,  should  appear  to  you 
irresistible.  For,  recollect  this,  although  it  is  the  devil  wlio 
tempts,  and  not  God,  it  is  God  who  measures  the  temptation, 
and  not  the  devil  ;  and  He  measures  it  either  according  to  the 

*  Eden  signifies  "  a  place  of  delights." 


144  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

strength  which  you  have,  or  according  to  that  which  He  has  in 
store  for  you. 

This  consolatory  truth  is  shown  to  us  in  the  clearest  light  by 
the  history  of  Job.  Was  Satan  ever  allowed  greater  liberty 
against  a  poor  servant  of  God  ?  Nevertheless,  he  still  is  fastened 
to  his  chain,  which  God  lengthens  or  shortens  at  His  pleasure, 
but  which  Satan  never  can  outgo  ;  and  the  Holy  Spirit  makes  us 
perceive  it  on  this  occasion,  that  we  may  know  the  devil  is  never 
without  his  bonds,  although  we  do  not  always  see  them.  Satan 
can  undertake  nothing  against  Job  without  first  having  obtained 
God's  permission  ;  *'  Put  forth  thine  hand  now,  and  touch  all 
that  he  hath."  Then,  when  God  grants  him  the  permission, 
God  makes  reservations  in  favor  of  His  servant.  First,  Job's 
person  is  reserved  :  "  Behold,  all  that  he  hath  is  in  thy  power, 
only  upon  himself  put  not  forth  thine  hand."  At  a  later  period, 
when  this  first  temptation  has  fortified  Job  for  a  harder  trial, 
God  once  more,  entreated  by  Satan,  abandons  to  him  the  person 
of  his  servant,  but  on  this  occasion  he  reserves  his  life:  "Be- 
hold, he  is  in  thine  hand,  but  save  his  life."*  If  Job  had  fallen 
under  the  first  surprise  of  this  nev/  attack,  if  he  had  yielded  to 
despair,  he  would  have  justified  the  enemy's  insolent  prediction  : 
"He  will  curse  thee  to  thy  face."  But  now  he  has  leisure  to 
recollect  himself,  to  listen  to  Elihu,  to  humble  himself  before 
God ;  and  notwithstanding  a  f^iw  imprudent  words  which  the 
excess  of  his  bitterness  forces  from  his  lips,  he  remains  firm,  he 
drives  back  the  adversary  in  confusion,  and,  recovering  God's 
favor  in  a  double  measure,  he  is  referred  to  as  a  model  of 
patience  in  the  New  Testament.f     Be  comforted,  then,  my  dear 

*  Job  ii.  4.  Notice  the  gradation  which  Satan  introduces  in  the  temptations  he  suc- 
cessively presents  to  Job ;  the  loss  of  his  fortune,  the  loss  of  his  family,  the  loss  of  his 
health,  and,  if  he  had  obtained  leave,  the  loss  of  his  life.  A  certain  pride  of  feeling 
would,  perhaps,  have  induced  us  to  reverse  this  order;  but  "the  old  serpent"  knows 
this  matter  better  than  we  do,  and  the  dexterity  of  the  course  he  follows  is  warranted  by 
God's  own  authority  in  this  surprising  narration. 

t  James  v.  11.  We  can  scarcely  refrain  from  surprise  in  seeing  Job  proposed  by  St. 
James  as  a  pattern  of  patience.  How  are  we  to  reconcile  this  testimony  with  those  many 
bitter  complaints  to  which  Job  gives  expression  in  the  third  chapter  of  his  history  ?    God 


TUE   YICTOKY    OF   ClIKIST   OVEli   SATAN.  145 

frieuds,  by  tlic  thought  that  tlie  devil  can  never  tempt  you  but 
by  the  leave  of  your  heavenly  Father,  and  never  beyond  the 
extent  which  he  permits/-  Without  this  permit,  or  beyond 
those  limits,  he  can  do  nothing  against  you.  Never,  then,  say 
that  your  trials  exceed  your  strength  ;  such  an  accusation, 
apparently  aimed  at  the  devil,  would  be  directed  agaiust  God 
himself. 

If  the  proof  which  I  have  just  given  you  from  history  docs  not 
seem  sufficient,  if  you  demand  a  formal  declaration  from  the 
Lord's  own  hand,  here  is  one  ;  but  after  that  be  satisfied,  and 
doubt  no  more.  It  is  written  :  ''  There  hath  no  temptation  be- 
fallen you  but  such  as  is  common  to  man."  So  much  for  the 
past  ;  now  for  the  future  :  "  And  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not 
suffer  you  to  be  tempted  above  that  ye  are  able,  but  will  with 
the  temptation  also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able 
to  bear  it."  What  more  do  you  want  ?  Kecall  the  past  : 
**  There  hath  no  temptation  taken  you  but  such  as  is  common  to 
man  ;"  that  is  to  say,  connected  with  human  nature,  and  conse- 
quently surmountable  by  it — I  say  by  human  nature,  not  such  as 
it  was  in  Jesus,  nor  even  such  as  it  was  in  Adam,  but  such  as  it 


is  more  merciful  in  his  judgments  than  we  arc  in  ours.  God  measures  the  patience  of  his 
saints  not  simply  by  the  degi-ee  of  their  submission,  but  by  that  degree  combined  with 
the  extent  of  their  sufferings;  just  as  a  man  may  evince  more  pli^-sical  strength  while 
dragging  painf^^lly  a  considerable  weight,  than  another  man  would  by  carrying  easily  a 
light  burden.  Above  all,  God  looks  to  the  heart ;  and  the  heart  is  revealed  but  very 
imperfectly  through  those  ext'^rnal  manifestations  which  alone  are  perceptible  by  man. 
A  man  who  utters  bitter  complaints  may  have  more  inward  submission  to  God's  will, 
than  another  who  is  better  able  to  moderate  the  expression  of  his  feelings.  This  last 
remark  is  confirmed  by  a  deep  study  of  Job's  complaints.  Even  in  the  boldness  which 
characterizes  tliem,  and  which  Ave  cannot  entirely  justify,  we  perceive  a  liberty  and 
familiarity  with  God,  which  indicates  an  unshaken  confidence  in  Him,  and  which  honors 
and  pleases  Ilim  more  than  the  blameless  moderation  of  many.  Job's  heart  is  revealed 
to  us  by  that  of  Jeremiah  in  the  following  Scripture,  wliicli  will  prove  offensive,  perhaps, 
to  more  than  one  reader,  but  which  is,  I  know  infinitely  precious  as  viewed  by  God: 
"  Righteous  are  thou,  0  Lord,  when  I  plead  with  thee ;  yet  let  me  talk  with  thee  [or,  rea- 
son the  case]  of  thyjudgraents." 

*  The  same  doctrine  is  found  in  Luke  xxii.  31,  32  :  "Simon,  Simon,  behold,  Satan  hath 
desired  to  have  you,  that  he  may  sift  you  as  wheat ;  but  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy 
faith  fail  not." 

1 


146  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

is  in  yourself.  If  Adam  before  his  fall,  and  Jesus  in  the  wilder- 
ness, endured  any  temptation  beyond  your  strength,  it  is  enough 
that  you  have  certainly  been  spared  them.  Much  more,  God 
pledges  himself  to  you  for  the  future,  and  does  so  in  the  name  of 
his  own  faithfulness  :  "  God  \s  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  you 
to  be  tempted  above  that  ye  are  able"  (he  does  not  say, 
above  what  Jesus  was  able,  nor  even  above  what  Adam  was 
able — be  says  above  what  yow  are  able);  "but  will  with  the 
temptation  also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able 
to  bear  it."  After  this,  my  dear  brother,  if  you  tell  me  : 
''Here  is  a  temptation  which  I  cannot  overcome,  it  is  stronger 
than  I  am,"  I  must  choose,  you  see,  between  yoar  assertion  and 
God's  word  ;  for  the  first  affirms  wdiat  the  second  declares  to  be 
impossible.  No,  w^hatever  the  appearances  may  be,  as  long  as 
God  is  God,  and  the  Bible  is  his  word,  we  can  never  have 
to  endure  a  temptation  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  sur- 
mount. 

The  lesson  which  we  have  just  learned  from  the  victory  of 
Jesus  in  the  wilderness,  is  taught  us  in  many  other  places  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  implied  everywhere  :  we  are  never  comjpdkd  to 
yield  to  temptation.  Having  before  me  a  great  variety  of  texts, 
I  quote  merely  a  few  relating  or  alluding  to  our  subject. 

Some  of  the  clearest  are  to  be  found  in  that  very  91st  psalm 
which  Satan  so  imprudently  placed  in  our  hands,  and  which  we 
should  not  have  dreamed  of  but  for  the  unworthy  abuse  he 
makes  of  it  against  our  Master.  This  psalm  is  full  of  promises  of 
victory  ;  but  consider  especially  the  words  which  immediately 
follow  those  which  Satan  calls  to  his  support:  "Thou  shalt 
tread  upon  the  Hon  and  adder  ;  the  young  Hon  and  the  dragon 
shalt  thou  trample  under  feet."  Why  didst  thou  not  finish  the 
quotation,  cruel  enemy  of  our  souls  ?  Docs  that  verse  have 
nothing  to  do  with  thee  ?  The  lion  and  the  serpent,  those  two 
images  twice  associated  in  so  short  a  passage,  may  well  repre- 
sent all  the  enemies  we  have  to  encounter  ;  but  they  refer  more 
particularly  to  the  leader  who  directs  and  inspires  them,  and 


THE   VICTORY    OF   CHRIST   OVER    SATAN.  147 

whom  the  Scripture  likewise  calls  elsewhere,  sometimes  a  lion, 
sometimes  a  serpent.  That  lion,  we  shall  tread  upon  ;  that  ser- 
pent we  shall  trample  under  foot. 

This  assurance  is  still  further  given  us  by  the  words  of  the 
Apostle,  where  Satan  is  distinctly  named  :  "  The  God  of  peace 
shall  bruise  Satan  under  your  feet  shortly."  In  this  passage,  Paul 
alludes  to  the  first  prophecy:  "It"  (the  seed  of  the  woman), 
"  shall  bruise  thy  head  ;"  and  he  shows  what  we  learn  in  like 
manner  from  an  attentive  study  of  the  prophecy  itself,  that 
the  victory  is  there  promised  not  only  to  the  Messiah,  but 
also  to  the  whole  family  of  believers.  The  same  doctrine  may 
be  found  in  James,  who  no  doubt  had  in  view  the  temptation  of 
Jesus  in  the  wilderness  when  he  wrote  :  "  Resist  the  devil,  and 
he  will  flee  from  you  ;  draw  nigh  to  God,  and  he  will  draw  nigh 
to  you."  But  nothing  can  be  compared  with  the  fullness  of 
the  promises  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  given  us  in  John  :  "For 
this  purpose  the  Son  of  God  was  manifested,  that  he  might  de- 
stroy the  works  of  the  devil.  Whosoever  is  born  of  God  doth 
not  commit  sin,  for  his  seed  remaineth  in  him  ;  and  he  cannot 
sin,  because  he  is  born  of  God.  In  this  the  children  of  God  are 
manifest,  and  the  children  of  the  devil."  This  is  not  the  place 
to  enlarge  upon  the  sense  of  this  difficult  passage  ;  *  but  every 
one  must  acknowledge  that  it  at  least  means  that  the  child  of 
God  possesses  in  nimself  a  secret  virtue,  by  which  he  can  subdue 
the  enemy,  and  that  he  is  never  irresistibly  constrained  to  yield 
to  him  the  victory. 

It  will  not  do  to  urge  against  me  your  experience  :  I  know 
too  well  that  every  one  of  our  days  is  marked  by  some  fall ; 
but  for  this  we  only  are  to  blame.  It  will  not  do  to  urge  even 
the  experience  of  the  most  faithful  among  the  Lord's  servants, 
among  his  saints,  his  prophets,  and  his  apostles.  I  do  not  forget, 
that,  unblamable  as  their  lives  may  be,  when  compared  with 


♦  The  expression  "  cannot  sin,"  explained  by  these  to  commit  sin,  is  employed  here 
to  dpsjgnate,  not  "  a  brother  overtaken  in  a  fault,"  but  a  heart  enelared  to  sin. 


14:8  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

ours  ;  justified  as  they  may  be  in  sayicg  to  us  :  "  Brethren,  be 
followers  together  of  us,"  yet  they  had  also  cause  to  say  :  "In 
many  things  we  offend  all  ;"  but  what  then  ?  is  it  through  a 
fatal  and  imperative  neassityl  Ah  !  the  holier  they  are,  the 
more  will  such  a  thought  inspire  them  with  indignation  and  hor- 
ror. Go  and  tell  a  Noah,  that  he  could  not  have  avoided  be- 
coming intoxicated  in  his  tent  ;  a  Jacob,  that  he  could  have  ob- 
tained the  promised  blessing  only  by  a  lie  ;  a  ^[oses,  that  he 
could  not  have  glorified  God  at  Meribah  ;  a  David,  that  he 
could  not  have  resisted  the  charms  of  Bathsheba  ;  an  Elijah,  that 
he  could  not  have  overcome  the  discouragement  of  his  soul  ;  a 
Hezekiah,  that  he  could  not  have  subdued  a  movement  of  vanity; 
a  Job,  that  he  could  not  have  restrained  his  rash  complaints  ; 
a  Zacharias,  that  he  could  not  have  believed  the  words  of  the 
angel ;  a  Peter,  that  he  could  not  have  confessed  his  Master  in 
the  court  of  the  high-priest :  and  you  will  see  them  all  smite 
upon  their  breast,  and  lift  up  their  eyes  towards  heaven,  saying  : 
"  0  Lord,  righteousness  belongeth  unto  thee,  but  unto  us 
confusion  of  face  !"  Every  time  we  fall,  it  is  through  our  own 
fault  ;  it  is  because  we  have  not  faithfully  used  the  means,  al- 
ways sufficient,  with  which  God  has  furnished  us  to  enable  us 
to  stand.  Whatever  may  happen,  "  let  God  be  true,  but  every 
man  a  liar."  Let  his  faithfulness  never  be  suspected.  "Let 
DO  man  say  when  he  is  tempted  :  I  am  tempted  of  God  ;  for 
God  cannot  be  tempted  of  evil,  neither  tempteth  he  any  man." 
My  brother,  my  dear  brother,  "  Lift  up  the  hands  which  hang 
down,  and  the  feeble  knees."  Wrestle  with  courage,  with  good 
cheer.  You  say  :  Oh  !  if  I  were  sure  to  overcome  !  Well, 
you  can  always  overcome  in  Jesus  ;  we  are  not  fatalists,  we  are 
Christians.  Do  not  make  up  your  mind  to  any  fall.  Live  not, 
knowingly  and  willingly,  on  terms  with  any  sin.  "  Be  not  over- 
come of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good." 

Learn  moreover  of  Jesus,  the  conqueror  in  the  wilderness, 
what  may  be  the  results  of  one  single  victory.  In  our  Lord's 
history,  the  temptation  is  one  of  those  critical  epochs,  which 


THE   VICTORY    OF   CHRIST   OVER    SATAN.  149 

decide  a  whole  life,  just  as  a  battle,  lost  or  gained,  may  decide 
a  whole  campaign.  Thus  circumstanced,  the  victory  of  Jesus 
not  only  keeps  Satan  away  for  a  season  ;  it  abates  his  confidence, 
and  he  will  return  to  new  conflicts  weakened  by  the  presenti- 
ment of  a  new  defeat.  There  are  also  for  you  such  decisive 
days  ;  nay,  perhaps  this  very  day  is  one  of  them  :  feel  its  value, 
its  importance.  If  you  fight  valiantly,  if  you  obtain  a  complete 
victory,  you  may  discourage  the  enemy  forever.  If,  on  the  con- 
trary, you  give  way,  and  leave  the  issue  undecided,  you  will  em- 
bolden him,  and  be  constantly  a  prey  to  his  attacks.  Only  one 
moment  of  weakness,  think  you,  one  single  moment  more  .  .  .  < 
but  that  moment  is  the  one  selected  by  the  tempter  for  a  last 
trial,  and  in  it  you  are  about  to  ruin  his  hopes  forever,  or  to  give 
them  fresh  vigor.  Courage,  then  I  Stand  firm  !  Give  not  back 
a  single  step  !  Falter  not,  for  a  moment !  Dispel  every  illusion 
of  the  enemy  I  Prove  to  him  that  with  you  he  loses  both  his 
time  and  his  trouble  !  And  by  the  reception  which  you  give 
him,  compel  him  to  recognize  in  the  disciple,  the  Master  who 
overcame  him  in  the  wilderness  ! 

It  costs  something,  indeed,  to  conquer No  human 

undertaking  requires  so  much  resolution  as  the  fight  of  faith  ; 
and  it  is  the  secret  sense  of  the  mighty  effort  you  have  to  make 
over  yourself,  which  keeps  you  in  a  state  of  indecision.  Yes, 
but  think  of  the  joy  of  triumph  !  Think  of  the  joy  of  Job  when 
delivered  from  trial,  and  sanctified  by  trial  !  Tliink  of  the  joy 
of  the  three  young  men  after  they  came  out  of  the  furnace,  or 
of  Daniel  when  he  left  the  lions'  den  I  Think,  especially,  of  the 
joy  of  Jesus  returning  from  victory  :  "  Look  unto  Jesus,  the 
author  and  finisher  of  our  faith,  who,  for  the  joy  that  was  set 
before  him,  endured  the  cross,  despising  the  shame,  and  is  set 
down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God."  What  will  not 
your  own  joy  be,  when  you  have  overcome  that  very  temptation 
which  has  hitherto  seemed  to  you  insurmountable  ;  a  joy  so 
much  the  greater,  because,  by  your  victory,  you  will  strengthen 
your  brethren,'^  as  Jesus  has  strengthened  you  by  his  victory  1 
Amen. 


DISCOURSE  VI. 

THE  AVEAPON  IN  CHRIST'S  CONFLICT* 

"  And  Jesus,  being  fuU  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  returned  from  Jordan,  and  was  led  by  the 
Spirit  into  the  wilderness,  being  forty  days  tempted  of  the  devil,"  etc. 

Ldke,  iv.  1-13. 

My  dear  Christian  Friends, 

Admonished  by  the  conflict  of  Jesus,  of  the  combat  which 
awaits  us,  assured  from  his  yictory  that  we  too  caii  overcome,  it 
remains  for  us  to  examine  the  weapons  by  which  He  has  con- 
quered, and  by  which  we  too  can  conquer  in  our  turn. 

Before  entering  upon  the  subject,  it  would  have  been  pleasing 
to  dwell  upon  the  preparation  of  Jesus  for  the  conflict.  It 
would  have  taught  us  what  is  requisite  in  order  to  be  in  a  posi- 
tion of  defence  against  the  attacks  of  the  tempter  ;  and  this  is 
half  the  victory.  But  our  theme  expands  with  its  study,  and 
this  discourse  would  be  too  long  :  we  must  confine  ourselves  to 
a  statement  of  the  main  ideas. 

Let  us,  at  the  outset,  cast  aside  a  slavish  imitation  which  sub- 
stitutes the  letter  for  the  spirit.  In  order  to  be  conformed  to  the 
example  of  Jesus  in  preparing  for  his  victory,  we  have  no  need 
to  go  to  the  desert  to  get  rid  of  temptation.  In  order  to  be 
conformed  to  the  example  of  Jesus  in  fasting  forty  days,  we 
have  no  need,  every  year,  to  bind  ourselves  down  to  a  forty  days' 

*  Dr.  Monod  acknowledges,  in  a  foot  note  to  this  sermon,  his  indebtedness  in  some  of 
ItB  paragraphs,  to  the  sermon  of  Krummacher,  on  this  same  subject,  found  in  this  voli- 
ume.— Tbaksl. 

150 


THE   WEAPON    IN    CIIRTSt's    CONFLICT.  151 

abstineuce.  By  acting  thus,  we  should  expose  ourselves  to 
temptation, — not  guard  against  it.  Here  we  should  Ijear  in  mind 
a  principle  of  which  the  imitator  of  Christ  sliould  never  lose 
sight — to  imUatc  is  not  to  copj. 

Jesus  was  "  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost,"  when  he  was  "  bap- 
tized, and  praying."  This  was  the  secret  of  his  strength.  Let 
us  "pray  without  ceasing,"  that  we  may  be  ''filled  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  ;"  for  he  who  is  ''  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  is  also 
"  full  of  wisdom,  of  faith  and  of  power." 

Jesus  has  just  been  proclaimed  by  God  "his  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  he  is  well  pleased."  This  character,  while  it  designates 
him  as  we  have  seen,  for  the  tempter's  attacks,  strengthens  him 
also  against  them,  because  it  permits  lum  to  apply  to  God  as  to 
a  "  Father  who  hears  him  always."  We  need  that  "  the  Spirit 
should  bear  witness  w^ith  our  spirit,  that  we  are  the  children  of 
God,"  his  w'ell  beloved  children.  We  shall  thereby  be  the  more 
exposed  to  the  assaults  of  the  enemy  ;  but  also  the  better  able 
to  resist  him  :  "  Whosoever  is  born  of  God  overcometh  the 
world." 

Jesus  is  "led  by  the  Spirit"  to  meet  the  temptation,  and  he 
does  not  encounter  it  of  his  own  accord  :  hence  his  confidence. 
Where  God  is  the  guide,  God  is  likewise  the  defence.  Let  us 
not  court  danger.  Peter  paid  dearly  for  having  set  at  defiance 
all  warnings,  and  forced  his  way  into  the  temptation  which,  he 
had  been  told,  would  overcome  him.*  Let  us  do  all  we  can  in 
order  that  the  trial  may  be  spared  us.  If  this  cannot  be,  then 
we  shall  meet  it  with  the  freedom  which  springs  from  a  good 
conscience,  and  with  the  strength  which  accompanies  humility. 

Finally,  Jesus  fasts  before  and  during  the  temptation.  This 
fasting  which  the  devil  makes  use  of  against  Jesus,  gives  at  the 
same  time  new  strength  to  Jesus  against  the  devil.  Our  Saviour 
fasts,  whilst  praying,  and  in  order  that  he  miglit  pray.     His 

*  John  xviii.  15, 16.  When  Jesus  enters  into  the  court  of  the  high  priest,  John  follows 
him,  "  because  he  was  known  of  the  high  priest ; "  but  Peter  remains  outside.  John 
leaves  the  court  on  purpose,  and  speaks  to  the  door-keeper  that  Peter  may  be  admitted 


152  ADOLrnE  moxod. 

abstincDce  is  explaiued  to  us  by  that  of  Moses,  who,  on  two 
occasions,  "  fell  down  before  the  Lord  forty  days  and  forty  nights, 
without  eating  bread  or  drinking  water."  An  example  which 
has  been  abused  elsewhere,  but  which  we  have  too  much  neglect- 
ed. The  use  to  which  both  Jesus  and  his  Apostles  apply  fasting, 
shoAvs  us  in  that  exercise,  a  means  sometimes  necessary  to  WTCstle 
successfully  against  temptation:  ''This,  kind  (of  spirit)  can 
come  forth  by  nothing  but  by  prayer  and  fasting."  Besides, 
abstinence  from  food  is  connected  with  an  abstinence  more  gene- 
ral, and  always  in  season,  w^hich  consists  in  subduing  the  flesh 
and  its  propensities  :  "  I  keep  under  my  body,  and  bring  it  into 
subjection."  "  Make  not  provision  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfill  the 
lusts  thereof."  Satan  has  his  footing  in  the  flesh  :  when  the 
flesh  is  bridled,  he  loses  his  hold  and  is  powerless. 

Jesus  being  thus  prepared,  let  us  follow  him  to  the  enemy, 
and  see  by  what  weapons  he  obtains  the  victory. 

The  weapons  of  Jesus  ? — say  we  rather  the  iveapon,  for  he  has 
but  one  ;  it  is  the  Word  cf  God.  Three  times  tempted,  three 
times  he  repels  the  temptation  by  a  simple  quotation  from  the 
Scriptures,  without  explanation  or  comment.  "  It  is  written," — 
this  one  expression  tells  upon  the  tempter  like  a  tremendous 
discharge  upon  an  assaulting  battalion.  "  It  is  written," — the 
devil  withdraws  for  the  first  time.  "  It  is  written," — the  devil 
withdraws  for  the  second  time.  "  It  is  written," — the  devirgives 
up  the  contest.  God's  word  is  the  weapon  which  Satan  most 
dreads — a  weapon  before  which  he  has  never  been  able  to  do 
aught  but  succumb.  Most  justly  does  Paul  call  it  "  the  sword 
of  the  Spirit ; "  *  and  John  describes  it,  in  the  Revelation,  as 
**  a  sharp,  two-edged  sword,  proceeding  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 
Son  of  man."  With  that  "  sword  of  the  Spirit"  in  our  hands, 
our  cause  becomes  that  of  the  Holy  Spirit  himself,  and  we  shall 


*  Kev.  i.  IG  ;  ii.  16  ;  xix.  15-21 ;  Ilcb.  iv.  12.  "  The  word  of  God  is  quick  and  power- 
ful,  and  sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul 
and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and  is  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents 
of  the  heart." 


THE    WEAPON   IN    CIIKISt's    CONFLICT.  150 

be  as  superior  in  strength  to  our  adversary,  as  is  the  Spirit  of 
God  to  tiic  spirit  of  darkness.  Without  it,  on  the  contrary, 
left  to  ourselves,  we  shall  be  as  much  below  him  as  is  man's 
nature  below  that  of  angels.  Adam  fell,  only  because  he  al- 
lowed this  sword  to  drop.  Jesus  triumphs,  because  no  one  can 
wrest  it  from  his  hand.  But  why  is  it  that  the  Son  of  God, 
instco,d  of  meeting  the  enemy  with  some  new  sword  brought 
from  the  heavens  whence  he  came,  took  up  only  our  own  weai)on, 
from  that  very  earth  where  Adam  had,  with  such  cowardice,  left 
it  ?  This  is  for  our  example.  From  what  that  weapon  accom- 
plished in  his  hand,  we  must  learn  what  it  can  do  in  ours.  Let 
us,  then,  take  it  up  in  our  turn  ;  or  rather,  let  us  receive  it  from 
him,  re-sharpened,  as  it  were,  by  his  victory,  and  we  shall  have 
nothing  to  fear.  To  all  the  adversary's  attacks  let  us  oppose  a 
simple  "  it  is  loriiten/'  and  we  shall  render  vain  his  every  en- 
deavor. 

The  devil  would  entangle  you  again  in  the  snares  of  the 
world.  He  proceeds  with  consummate  skill  in  this  attempt. 
Insinuating  himself  into  your  company,  he  represents  to  you 
that  it  is  scarcely  compatible  with  charity  that  you  should  keep 
yourself  so  distant  from  the  society  of  men  ;  that  a  better  way 
to  win  them  over  to  the  Gospel,  would  be  to  frequent  their 
social  meetings,  thus  showing  them  that  your  religion  is  not 
that  of  anchorites  ;  lastly,  that  too  many  precautions  do  not 
become  him  who  would  grow  strong  in  Christian  virtue,  and 
that  there  is  no  glory  in  a  triumph  obtained  without  peril.  Thus 
speaks  the  tempter. .  If  you  only  resist  by  your  own  understand- 
ing, you  will  be  the  more  easily  convinced,  in  proportion  as  your 
natural  heart  is  but  too  much  inclined  to  his  suggestions.  But 
if  you  take  up  God's  Word,  if  you  answer  in  faith  :  It  is  written, 
"Be  not  conformed  to  this  world" — this  one  quotation  puts 
everything  in  its  true  place  ;  the  adversary  is  unmasked,  and  his 
malice  confounded. 

The  devil  would  make  you  disbelieve  that  Christian  laith  is 
the  only  way  to  salvation.     He  takes  you  to  some  large  squarj 

1* 


154 


ADOLPHE   MONOD. 


in  a  groat  city,  and  pointing  out  to  you  the  multitudes  passing 
to  and  fro  without  intermission,  be  says  :  Can  you  really  think 
that  all  these  are  on  the  road  to  perdition  ?  Neither  your 
understanding  nor  your  heart  can  respond  to  such  a  doctrine. 
And  yet,  for  the  most  part,  these  people  do  not  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ ;  at  least,  their  faith  is  not  yours,  not  that  of  those  like 
you.  Is  it  true,  then,  that  the  only  path  to  life  everlasting  is 
the  little  track  in  which  you  go  ?  Are  not  your  ideas  on  this 
subject  narrow  and  unworthy  of  God  ?  Thus  argues  the  tempter. 
If  you  resist  him  only  with  your  own  wisdom,  you  will  not  hold 
out  long  against  him  ;  you  will  return  from  the  fight  uncertain, 
trembling,  and  spiritless.  But  if,  taking  up  the  Word  of  God, 
you  unhesitatingly  reply  :  It  is  written,  "  I  am  the  way,  the 
truth,  and  the  life  ;  no  man  cometh  unto  the  Father,  but  by  me '' — 
the  spell  is  destroyed,  "  the  snare  is  broken,  and  you  are  escaped" 
out  of  the  hand  of  the  perfidious  fowler. 

Once  more,  the  devil  wishes  to  take  away  from  a  faithful 
minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  all  the  vitality  of  his  preaching.  He 
recommends  him  not  to  be  so  inflexible,  not  to  cry  out  "heresy" 
for  such  trifles,  not  to  make  heaven  so  inaccessible  and  salva- 
tion so  difiScult,  and  not  to  throw  gloom  over  the  goodness  of 
grace  by  imaginations  of  a  devil  and  a  hell.  This  new  course, 
by  gaining  him  the  good-will  of  all  his  hearers,  will  enable  him 
to  bring  them  more  surely  to  the  faith,  and  turn  to  a  more 
profitable  account  the  precious  gifts  which  heaven  has  bestowed 
upon  him.  Thus  advises  the  tempter.  If  you  consult  nothing 
but  your  own  light  to  refute  him,  you  must,  needs  fall  into  the 
snare  ;  so  skillful  is  he  to  make  good  appear  evil  and  evil  good — 
to  make  light  seem  darkness  and  darkness  light !  But  if  you 
rest  upon  God's  word,  if  you  answer  with  assurance  :  It  is 
written,  "  If  any  man  preach  any  other  Gospel  unto  you  than 
that  ye  have  received,  let  him  be  accursed " — the  "  strong 
man  "  has  found  a  "  stronger"  than  himself,  and  he  has  only  to 
quit  with  consternation  the  field  of  battle. 

Oh  I  if  we  did  but  know  what  the  Word  of  God  can  effect 


155 


even  in  our  own  hands  !  If  vvc  knew  the  terror  witli  wliich  il  inspires 
our  formidable  adversary,  at  the  ver}'  time  when  lie  affects  to 
laugh  at  it  in  our  presence,  that  he  may  induce  us  to  give  it  up  ! 
If  after  having  heard  him,  on  the  theatre  of  temptation,  scoff- 
ing at  the  word  of  God,  we  could  (allow  me  the  expression) 
follow  him  behind  the  scenes,  and  hear  him  confess  to  his  accom- 
plices that  he  is  lost  if  he  cannot  succeed  in  wresting  from  our 
hands  this  irresistible  weapon  ! — If  we  did  but  know  all  this, 
and  if,  like  the  valiant  Eleazar,  "  we  could  keep  hold  of  our 
sword  till  our  hand  clave  unto  it" — oh,  then  we  should  be  invin- 
'^ible,  yea,  invincible  ! 

But,  in  order  that  the  Word  of  God  may  have  in  our  hands 
the  power  it  possessed  in  those  of  Jesus,  it  must  be  for  us  what 
it  was  for  Ilim.  I  know  of  nothing  in  the'  whole  history  of 
humanity,  nor  even  in  the  field  of  divine  revelation,  that  proves 
more  clearly  than  my  text  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures. 
What  !  the  Son  of  God,  "■  He  who  was  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,"  and  who  could  so  easily  draw  His  resources  from  him- 
self, preferring  to  borrow  them  from  a  book  which  He  finds  in 
our  hands,  and  to  derive  His  strength  whence  Joshua,  Samuel, 
David,  derived  theirs  ?  What  1  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of 
heaven  and  earth,  calling  to  his  aid,  in  that  solemn  moment, 
Moses,  His  servant  ?  He  who  ''  speaks  from  heaven,"  fortifying 
himself  against  the  temptations  of  hell,  by  the  word  of  him  who 
"spake  from  earth  ?"  Ah,  how  can  we  explain  that  astonishing 
mystery,  or  rather  that  wonderful  reversing  of  the  order  of 
tilings,  if  for  Jesus  the  words  of  Moses  were  not  "  the  words  of 
God,  rather  than  those  of  men  ?"  if  he  were  not  fully  aware 
that  "  holy  men  of  God  spoke  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
Spirit  ?"  I  do  not  forget,  my  dear  friends  (and  here  I  address 
myself  more  particularly  to  the  young  ministers  of  the  AVord) 
I  do  not  forget  the  objections  which  have  been  raised  against  the 
inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  nor  the  real  obscurities  with  which 
that  inspiration  is  surrounded  ;  if  they  sometimes  trouble  your 
hearts,  they  have  troubled  mine  also.     But,  at  such  times,  in 


156  ADOLrnE  moxod. 

order  to  revive  my  faith,  I  have  had  only  to  glance  at  Jesas 
glorifying  the  Scriptures  in  the  wilderness  ;  and  I  have  seen  that 
for  all  who  rely  upon  Him,  the  most  embarrassing  of  problems  is 
transformed  into  a  historical  fact,  palpable  and  clear.  Jesus, 
no  doubt,  was  aware  of  the  difficulties  connected  with  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  Scriptures  ;  and  the  part  of  Scripture  which  He 
quotes,  the  Old  Testament,  is  that  which  presents  the  greatest 
of  these  difficulties.  Did  this  prevent  Him  from  appealing  to  its 
testimony  with  unreserved  confidence  ?  Let  that  which  was  suf- 
ficient for  Him,  suffice  for  you.  Fear  not  that  the  rock  \shich 
sustained  the  Lord  in  the  hour  of  His  temptation  and  distress, 
will  give  way  because  you  lean  too  entirely  upon  it.  Whence 
comes  your  perplexity  about  inspiration  ?  Is  it  from  the  varia- 
tions of  the  different  manuscripts  ?  These  were  unavoidable, 
without  a  perpetual  miracle  ;  and,  in  the  days  of  Jesus,  there 
were  already  various  readings  for  the  Old  Testament,  which  He 
here  quotes  three  times.  Is  it  from  the  little  discrepancies  of 
the  sacred  writers,  when  they  describe  the  same  event,  such, 
for  instance,  as  we  find  in  Luke  and  Matthew,  in  the  very  his- 
tory which  constitutes  my  text  ?  Discrepancies  quite  equal  to 
these  exist  amongst  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament ;  for  instance, 
between  the  Kings  and  the  Chronicles.  Is  it  from  the  degrees 
of  inspiration  ?  Are  you  afraid  lest  there  should  be  less  inspira- 
tion in  the  historical,  than  the  prophetic  books  ?  Jesus  uni- 
formly quotes  the  Scripture  as  an  authority  which  "  cannot  be 
broken  ;"  and  in  the  passages  we  are  now  considering.  His  quo- 
tations w^re  all  taken  from  an  historical  book — Deuteronomy. 
Finally,  do  you  hesitate  about  the  theory  you  should  adopt 
rcspecthig  inspiration  ? — what  its  mode  or  its  extent,  what  it 
leaves  to  man's  agency,  whether  it  directs  the  mind  of  the 
sacred  author  or  his  pen  ?  and  other  questions  of  a  similar  nature. 
Here  again,  take  example  by  Jesus.  He  enters  upon  no  expla- 
nation concerning  all  these  speculative  points.  But  when  the 
practical  question  is  at  issue,  when  that  question  is  the  confi- 
dence with  which  you  may  quote  the  Scriptures,  all  the  Scrip- 


157 

tures,  and  even  a  single  word  of  the  Scriptures* — then  it  is 
impossible  to  be  more  clear,  more  firm,  more  positive  than  was 
He.  Go  and  do  likewise.  Quote  the  Scriptures  as  Jesus 
quoted  them,  and  hold  respecting  inspiration  whatever  theory 
you  will.  Jesus  takes  a  higher  position  than  that  occupied  by 
our  theological  systems,  one  more  free  from  earthly  influences  ; 
let  us  follow  Him  to  those  heights  where  we  breathe  an  atmos- 
phere that  is  luminous  and  pure,  and  where  the  vapors  with 
which  the  world  obscures  the  truth  of  heaven,  will  settle  beneath 
our  feet.f 

Ah  I  when  tlie  devil  attempts  again  to  insinuate  into  your 
mind  some  one  of  those  scholastic  subtleties  which  he  has  always 
in  store  against  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  content  your- 
selves with  referring  him  to  Jesus  :  "  Why  didst  thou  not  say 
all  this  to  my  Master,  when,  in  the  wilderness.  He  repelled  thee 
by  that  Word  which  now  seems  to  thee  so  weak  and  so  uncer- 
tain? Go,  carry  to  Him  thy  quibbles,  and  when  they  have 
shaken  Hnr,  then  may  they  shake  me  also  !" 

Jesus  had  no  other  weapon  against  Satan  than  the  Word  of 
God  ;  but  how  does  He  handle  this  weapon  ?  Let  us  study 
each  of  the  three  quotations  which  He  borrows  in  succession 
from  the  Scriptures.  Thus,  as  by  His  example  we  have  learned 
the  power  of  God's  word,  so,  by  His  example,  shall  we  also 
learn  the  use  we  ought  to  make  of  it. 

After  forty  days  and  forty  nights  spent  in  the  vv'ilderness, 
Jesus  is  conscious  of  hunger,  from  which  He  does  not  appear  to 
have  suffered  during  the  course  of  His  fast,  everything  here 
being  supernatural.  Then  it  is  that  the  devil  draws  near,  and 
begins  his  attacks.     We  have  already  had  occasion,  in  another 


*  John  X.  85.  The  quotations  of  Jesus  prove  only  the  inspiration  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. The  inspiration  of  the  New  Testament  has  its  peculiar  proofs,  and  rests  equally, 
though  in  another  manner,  upon  Christ's  authority.  Besides,  except  the  Jews,  no  men 
receiving  the  inspiration  of  the  Old  Testament,  have  rejected  that  of  the  New. 

t  "  Eat  in  peace  the  bread  of  Scripture,  without  troubUng  thyself  about  the  particle  of 
sand  which  may  have  been  mixed  with  it  by  the  millstone." — BengeVs  advice  to  a 
young  divine. 


158  ADOLPHE  MOXOD. 

place,  to  contemplate  the  three  temptations  in  the  wilderness, 
from  what  may  be  called  their  external  side,  that  is  to  say,  iu 
relation  to  the  objects  to  which  they  refer  :  "  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life."  Here  we  con- 
sider their  inward  character,  I  mean  the  feelings  through  which 
the  devil  hoped  to  cause  the  Lord  to  yield,  and  which  properly 
constitute  the  spirit  of  the  temptation.  Viewed  thus,  the  first 
temptation  is  one  of  distrust  ;  the  second,  one  of  unfaithfulness  ; 
the  third,  one  of  presumption. 

The  devil  begins  thus  :  ''If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command 
this  stone  that  it  be  made  bread."  The  moment  was  well  chosen, 
and  the  temptation  subtle.  The  tempter  would  have  Jesus 
employ,  for  his  own  personal  advantage,  the  divine  virtue  with 
which  He  is  invested  as  the  Messiah,  admitting  Him  to  be  the 
Messiah,  which,  at  the  same  time,  he  would,  perhaps,  induce 
Him  to  doubt.  It  was  as  if  he  had  said  to  Him  :  "  Employ  the 
means  at  your  disposal  to  supply  your  wants,  instead  of  depend- 
ing upon  God  whom  you  call  your  Father,  but  who  appears  to 
have  forgotten  you."  Had  Jesus  yielded  to  this  proposition, 
concealing  as  it  does  so  mischievous  a  design  under  appearances 
so  benevolent.  He  would  have  forsaken  God's  ways  by  having 
questioned  God's  assistance  ;  He  would  have  used  this  power 
just  as  Satan  had  used  his  for  His  own  private  satisfaction  ;  and 
so  the  work  of  redemption  would  have  been  destroyed  at  its  very 
beginning.  Hence  He  refutes  the  enemy  without  hesitation,  by 
meeting  him  simply  with  this  plain  answer  from  the  Scrip- 
tures ;*  "  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word 
of  God."  This  quotation  may,  perhaps,  seem  to  you  strange, 
and  hardly  suited  to  the  occasion  ;  you  will  think  so  no  longer 
when  you  have  ascertained  its  meaning. 

It  is  taken  from  Deuteronomy,  and  from  the  history  of  the 
people  of  Israel  in  the  wilderness.     Observe  that  the  two  other 

*  Jesus,  ■who  refuses  here  to  make  use  of  Ills  Divine  power,  in  order  to  j  rovide  for  His 
own  necessities,  employs  it  elsewhere  to  procure  superfluities  for  others, — John  ii. 
1-11. 


e 


THE   WEAPON   IN   CHKISt's    CONFLICT.  159 

answers  of  Christ  to  the  tempter  arc  borrowed  from  the  same 
history  and  the  same  book.  Whence  comes  it  that  Jesus,  with 
the  whole  field  of  Scripture  open  before  him,  entrenclies  himself 
against  the  attack  of  the  enemy  in  this  particular  place,  as  in 
an  impregnable  fortress  ?  It  is  because  He  perceives  a  secret 
parallel  between  himself,  the  Son  of  God,  preparing  to  lay  the 
foundation  of  His  kingdom  by  forty  days'  fast  and  temptation  in 
the  wilderness  of  Judea,  and  Israel,  that  other  son  of  God,  quali- 
fied for  the  conquest  of  Canaan  by  forty  years'  privations  and 
trials  in  the  great  desert  of  Arabia.  Israel,  who  is  presented  to 
us  as  a  type  of  the  New  Testament  church,  is  also  the  type  of 
Jesus,  the  head  of  that  church,  in  whom  it  is  complete  :  there- 
fore, Jesus  instructs  and  strengthens  Himself  by  what  is  written 
for  Israel.  Admirable  connection  of  the  Scriptures  !  Wonder- 
ful unity  of  spirit  in  both  Testaments  ! 

"  And  He  humbled  thee,"  says  Moses  to  the  people  of  Israel, 
and  suflered  thee  to  hunger,  and  fed  thee  with  manna  which 
thou  knowest  not,  neither  did  thy  fathers  know,  that  He  might 
make  thee  know  that  man  doth  not  live  by  bread  only,  but  by 
every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God,"  or  as  our 
text  has  it,  "by  every  word  of  God."  Bread  is  the  usual  means 
by  which  God  provides  for  man's  subsistence,  but  not  the  only 
one  He  has  at  His  disposal ;  for  the  secret  of  the  nutritive 
virtue  resides,  not  in  the  bread,  but  in  the  command  of  God,  from 
which  alone  proceeds  every  power  and  every  blessing.  If  bread 
becomes  assimilated  to  the  substance  of  our  body,  it  is  because 
that  word  said  from  the  beginning  :  "  I  have  given  you  every 
herb  bearing  seed,  which  is  upon  the  face  of  all  the  earth,  .  .  . 
to  you  it  shall  be  for  meat ;"  and  if,  instead  of  pronouncing  that 
blessing  upon  wheat,  the  same  word  had  pronounced  it  upon 
stone  or  wood,  wood  or  stone  would  nourish  us  as  well  as  wheat 
does  now  ;  nor  would  the  sight  be  more  astonishing,  than  that 
of  the  word  sweetening  the  springs  of  Marah,  or  of  the  rock 
supplying  Israel  with  water  in  his  thirst.  Without  God's  word, 
bread  itself  could  nourish  no  one,  and  we  should  eat  it,  without 


160  ^  ADOLPHE  MOIsrOD. 

being  satisfied  ;  but  that  word  can,  independently  of  bread, 
feed  Avliom  it  pleases,  and  as  it  pleases.  God  proved  this  abun- 
dantly in  the  people  who  were  with  Moses,  by  nourishing  them 
forty  years  with  manna,  which  ceased  to  fall  from  the  day  they 
set  their  foot  upon  cultivated  ground.  Nay,  the  word  of  God 
can  support  the  body  of  man  without  bread,  without  manna, 
without  Yisible  means  of  any  kind.  On  two  occasions,  Moses 
lived  forty  days  on  Mount  Sinai,  "  without  eating  bread  or 
drinking  water."  Elijah  journeyed  also  for  forty  days,  towards 
the  same  mountain,  and  across  the  same  wilderness,  without  food 
or  drink.  Jesus,  in  His  turn,  led  by  His  Father's  will  into  a 
desert  where  everything  was  wanting,  was  there  so  marvelously 
sustained  during  His  forty  days'  fast,  that  He  did  not  even  suffer 
hunger.  He  relied  to  the  end  upon  Him  who  led  Him  into  the 
wilderness,  to  be  supported  in  the  wilderness.  As  for  the  choice 
of  means,  He  cheerfully  resigns  it  to  His  Father's  wisdom, 
having  learned  from  Moses  that  ''man  shall  not  live  by  bread 
alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God."  Scarcely  had  this  Scripture, 
taken  in  its  intimate  and  deepest  sense,  been  quoted,  than  it 
overthrows  the  whole  effort  of  the  enemy,  and  annihilates  his 
first  attack.  My  dear,  friend,  whenever  the  tempter  induces 
you  to  call  in  question  God's  assistance,  because  ordinary  means 
are  wanting,  answer  as  Jesus  did  :  "  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread 
alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God." 

You  have  hitherto  earned  with  some  exertion  your  own  bread 
and  that  of  your  family  :  but  suddenly  employment  fails,  or  your 
health  give  way,  or  your  usual  resources  vanish.  This  is  an 
opportunity  which  the  devil  will  not  neglect  to  improve.  He 
will  not  dare  to  propose  to  you.  to  deceive,  or  to  steal  ;  but  he 
will  say  :  "  Has  God,  thy  Father,  no  other  banquet  for  thee  but 
those  stones  and  those  thorns  amidst  which  he  allows  thee  to 
vegetate  ?  Well,  since  he  forsakes  thee,  help  thyself ;  be  not 
afraid  of  wandering  a  little  from  the  beaten  track,  and  of  pro- 
viding for  thy  wants  by  some  of  those  means  about  which  you  are 
too  scrupulous.     Speculate,  try  the  dazzling  chances  of  the  gam- 


THE   WEArON   IN    CHRISt's   CONFLICT.  ICl 

ing-table  ;  bo  less  exact  respecting  the  choice  of  thy  acquaint- 
ances ;  flatter  without  scruple  those  whose  protection  may  be 
necessary  to  thee  ;  command  this  stone  that  it  may  be  made 
bread."  Let  your  answer  be,  "Man  shall  not  live  by  bread 
alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God  I"  "The  God  whom  I  serve 
can  dehver  me,"  and  He  will  deliver  me  ;  but  if  not,  I  will  not 
turn  aside  from  His  paths  ;  and  should  I  die  of  hunger,  I  will 
"  abstain  from  every  appearance  of  evil !  " 

Your  soul's  sustenance  gives  rise  to  similar  temptations,  which 
you  must  repulse  in  the  same  spirit.  You  find  yourselves  con- 
fined in  a  spiritual  desert,  shut  up  in  an  abode  where  your  heart 
''  faints  for  the  courts  of  the  Lord,"  and  for  the  communion  of 
his  people  ;  you  are  bound  to  a  situation,  engaged  in  a  society, 
where  everything  is  directed  against  your  "growth  in  grace  ;" 
for  you,  the  way  of  sanctification  is  hedged  up  with  temptations 
and  impediments.  But  it  is  God  who  prepared  this  desert  for 
you  ;  it  is  He  who  selected  this  position  ;  you  cannot  leave  it 
without  violating  your  imperative  duty.  This  family  to  which 
you  are  bound,  is  that  of  your  natural  relations,  whom  God  has 
commanded  you  to  take  care  of,  under  the  alternative  of  "deny- 
ing the  faith,  and  being  worse  than  an  infidel."  In  moments  like 
these,  the  devil  will  say.  Is  it  not  time  to  provide  for  the  welfare 
of  thy  soul  ?  Put  an  end,  at  any  cost,  to  that  state  of  things 
which  renders  the  Christian  life  impossible  for  thee  ;  command 
this  stone  that  it  be  made  bread.  Let  your  answer  be,  "  Man 
shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  the  word  of  God  I"  The 
blessing  comes  from  God,  and  it  is  restricted  to  no  human  circum- 
stances, I  am  where  my  Father  wills  me  to  be  ;  that  is  enough. 
He  who,  at  his  will,  "turneth  the  wilderness  into  a  standing  water, 
and  dry  ground  into  water  springs,"  is  also  he  who  can  turn  the 
most  terrible  temptations  into  precious  means  of  grace  I  He  will 
keep  me  in  all  my  ways,  except  in  that  of  disobedience  I 

You  are  a  minister  of  God.  Under  the  manifest  direction  of 
the  Lord,  you  have  been  appointed  over  a  church  where  remark- 
able blessings  have   unceasingly  confirmed  your  calling.     Bat 


162  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

the  church  is  poor,  you  are  so  yourself,  and  as  you  begin  the 
year,  you  know  not  how  you  will  be  able  to  meet  the  expenses 
which  each  of  the  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  of  which  it 
is  composed  will  bring  with  it.  Dear  brother,  you  are  truly  in  a 
wilderness,  but  in  a  wilderness  to  which  God  has  led  you,  as  if 
by  the  hand.  The  devil  then  says,  "  The  God  whom  thou  servest 
so  faithfully,  is  forsaking  thee.  For  so  many  years  that  thou 
hast  put  up  thy  request  to  Him  for  thee  and  for  thine,  what  has 
He  done  to  relieve  thy  becoming  solicitude  ?  AVhy  delayest  thou  ? 
Give  up  so  wretched  a  situation,  seek  some  other  sphere  of  duty 
which  may  sujDply  thee  with  "  thy  bread  and  thy  water,  thy  wool 
and  thy  flax,  thine  oil  and  thy  drink  ;"  "Command  this  stone 
that  it  be  made  bread."  Let  your  answer  be,  "  Man  shall  not 
live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  the  word  of  God."  God,  faithful  to 
those  who  are  faithful,  has  resources  ready  at  hand  for  all  my 
wants  :  wherever  he  has  sent  me,  he  has  never  left  me  to  want : 
as  long  as  I  am  convinced  that  the  place  I  now  occupy  is  of  his 
own  appointing,  I  shall  remain  "  and  quietly  wait  for  his  salva- 
tion." 

Answer  thus,  my  friend,  and  God  will  be  your  support.  Not 
a  few  of  your  brethren  have  been  visited  as  you  are  ;  they  have 
waited  for  the  Lord  ;  and  now  that  God  has  "  shown  unto  them 
the  salvation"  promised  ''to  him  that  ordereth  his  conversation 
aright,"  they  would  not  exchange  for  all  the  gold  in  the  world, 
the  lessons  they  have  derived  from  their  distress. 

The  first  temptation  has  been  overcome — overcome  by  God's 
■word — the  devil  has  recourse  to  another.  "And  the  devil, 
taking  Him  up  into  a  high  mountain,  showed  unto  Him  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  moment  of  time." 

And  the  devil  said  unto  Him,  "All  this  power  will  I  give  thee, 
and  the  glory  of  them  ;  for  that  is  delivered  unto  me,  and  to 
whomsoever  I  will  I  give  it  ;  if  thou,  therefore,  wilt  worship  me, 
all  shall  be  thine."  How  did  this  mysterious  scene  take  place  ? 
We  are  ignorant.  I  have  already  said  that  I  come  to  this  narra- 
tive as  a  child  ;  and  without  endeavoring  to  penetrate,  "  the 


THE   WEAPON    IN   CHRISt's   CONFLICT.  1G3 

hidden  things  which  are  for  the  Lord  our  God,"  I  go  straight 
to  "  those  revealed  things  which  are  for  us,  and  for  our  chil- 
dren." There  is  much  to  be  learned  here  concerning  the  wiles 
of  the  adversary,  and  the  means  we  should  employ  in  order  to 
escape  them. 

What  must  we  think  of  this  boast  of  Satan  :  "  That  is  deliv- 
ered unto  me,  and  to  whomsoever  I  will  I  give  it  ?"  It  is  com- 
pounded of  truth  and  falsehood,  like  all  the  insinuations  of  the 
adversary  ;  for  if  they  had  the  character  of  truth  alone,  the 
very  object  of  ''the  father  of  lies"  would  be  defeated  ;  if  the 
stamp  was  exclusively  that  of  falsehood,  his  designs  would  be 
too  apparent.  It  is  too  true  that  Satan  exercises  in  this  world 
a  prodigious  empire  which  he  holds  from  sin,  and  which  he  dedi- 
cates to  the  service  of  sin.  He  usurped  it  in  Eden,  where,  not 
satisfied  with  possessing  himself  of  the  spirit  of  man — that  king 
of  the  earth — we  see  him  taking  the  place  of  the  King  of  heaven 
himself,  as  the  object  of  man's  obedience.  We  need  only  cast 
our  eyes  around  us,  to  perceive  the  fatal  power  which  the  enemy 
has  acquired  over  us  ;  history,  politics,  science,  art,  literature, 
everything  connected  with  glory  and  beauty,  bears  too  striking 
a  witness  to  the  sad  fact.  For  this  reason,  Satan  is  called  in 
the  Scriptures  "the  prince  of  the  world,"  such  is  his  power 
over  it,  and  even  (oh,  shame  !)  ''the  god  of  this  world  ;"  so 
much  is  he  adored  in  it.  But  this  power  of  Satan,  such  as  it  is, 
"  has  been  dehvered  unto  him,"  and  this  he  is  obliged  himself 
to  confess.  Having  then  been  delivered  to  him,  it  is  not  abso- 
lute ;  he  exercises  it  under  the  control  of  God,  who  makes  it 
subserve  the  final  accomplishment  of  His  own  purposes  ;  and  if 
Satan  is  the  prince  of  this  world,  God  alone  is  "its  Sovereign, 
ruling  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  giving  it  to  whosoever  He 
wUl." 

Further,  having  been  delivered  to  him,  it  is  not  eternal  ;  it 
will  be  taken  from  him  when  sin,  on  which  alone  it  rests,  shall 
have  been  abolished,  and  it  is  to  abolish  it  that  the  Messiah  came  ; 
"  He  appeared  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil,"  and  to  build 


1G4  ADOLPIIE   MONOD. 

upon  the  ruins  of  his  empire  a  new  kingdom  "  which  shall  never 
be  dissolved."  That  which  Satan  dares  to  claim  here,  that  which 
he  pretends  to  make  over  to  the  Son  of  God,  really,  then, 
belongs  to  that  Son  to  whom  the  Father  has  promised  "  the 
heathen  for  his  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth 
for  his  possession." 

However  this  may  be,  Satan  offers  to  Jesus  what  he  can  give, 
and  perhaps  what  he  cannot  give.  He  causes  to  pass  before 
his  eyes  "all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  their  glory  ;"  the 
pride  of  power,  the  eclat  of  riches,  the  splendor  of  luxury,  the 
vanity  of  honors,  the  intoxication  of  pleasures,  and  all  those 
earthly  pomps  which  excite  so  violently  man's  desires  ;  then  he 
tells  Him:  "All  shall  be  thine,"  on  the  one  condition,  "that 
thou  v\ilt  worship  me."  The  spirit  of  the  second  temptation 
consisted  in  inducing  the  Son,  instead  of  waiting  for  and  con- 
quering the  inheritance  promised  by  the  Father,  to  receive  it  at 
once  and  without  a  conflict  from  the  hands  of  Satan,  by  render- 
ing him  the  homage  due  to  God  alone.  This  temptation  has 
something  in  it  more  revolting  than  the  first  •  the  condition  to 
which  the  empire  of  the  world  is  attached,  is  nothing  short  of  a 
compact  with  the  devil.  Thus,  Jesus  no  sooner  hears  the 
impious  proposal,  than  He  lays  aside  for  a  moment  the  calmness 
which  characterized  His  resistance  ;  and,  for  the  first  time  call- 
ing Satan  by  his  name.  He  repels  him  with  a  holy  indignation  : 
"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  ;  for  it  is  written  thou  shalt  wor- 
ship the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt  thou  serve."* 
This  quotation  arrests  immediately  the  enemy's  efforts,  and  sends 
him  back  a  second  time  defeated. 

Here  things  are  so  clear,  Satan's  proposition  so  detestable, 
and  the  reply  of  Jesus  so  simple,  that  any  explanation  would  be 
superfluous.  Not  so,  however,  with  the  application  of  the  sub- 
ject. However  detestable  the  temptation  may  be,  God's  children 
are  all  exposed  to  it  ;  and  however  plain  the  answer,  it  is  im- 

*  These  words  are  borrowed  from  Dcut.  vi.  13,  but  according  to  the  Scptuagint  ver« 
Bion,  which  gives  the  thought  of  Moses,  without  confining  itself  to  his  very  words. 


THE   WEArON    IN    CHRISt's    CONFLICT.  1G5 

portant  that  we  should  know  always  where  to  find  it.  There  is 
not  one  among  us  to  whom  an  alliance  with  Satan  has  noo  more 
than  once  been  offered.  I  thus  designate  a  tacit  agreement,  by 
which  a  man  engages  to  serve  the  God  of  this  world,  in  order  to 
secure  the  world's  favor  ;  an  agreement  by  which  a  Christian, 
perhaps,  consents  to  do  homage  to  Satan  for  the  purpose  of  mak- 
ing sure  in  his  impatience  "  of  the  glory  which  comes  from 
men,"  instead  of  following  by  faith  "  the  glory  which  is  from 
God  only."  Let  us  give  a  few  examples  borrowed  from  the  ex- 
perience of  youth. 

The  most  common  form  under  which  Satan  proposes  to  us  his 
odious  alliance  is  the  lust  of  riches.  A  moral,  pious  young  man 
has  just  entered  upon  business.  The  hope  of  making  a  brilliant 
fortune  takes  possession  of  his  mind  ;  how  is  this  hope  to  be 
realized  ?  Among  other  means  some  suggest  themselves,  which 
generally  obtain  in  the  world,  but  which  are  sinful  :  lies,  deceit, 
injury  to  neighbors,  lawsuits,  family  divisions,  neglect  of  God's 
service,  sabbath-breaking. 

What  is  this  but  the  devil  saying  :  "If  thou  wilt  worship  me, 
all  shall  be  thine  ?"  Alas  I  and  how  few  fortunes  have  been 
made  without  some  concessions  to  Satan  : — Answer  him,  my 
young  brother,  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  ;  for  it  is  written, 
Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt  thou 
serve."  Let  Satan  keep  all  his  advantages,  since  he  puts  upon 
them  such  a  price.  Do  not  beg  from  the  devil  the  deceitful  sem- 
blance of  a  glory,  the  reality  of  which  God  will  bestow  upon 
you,  if  you  are  faithful.  Besides,  even  here  below,  the  blessing 
comes  from  God  :  "  Godliness  has  the  promise  of  the  life  that 
DOW  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come." 

Sometimes  Satan's  alliance  is  concealed  under  a  project  of 
marriage.  A  young  lady  is  treading  faithfully  in  the  paths  of 
the  Lord.  By  her  fervent,  and  yet  modest  piety,  she  is  an  ex- 
ample to  her  companions,  an  honor  to  the  church,  a  blessing  to 
the  world.  Her  hand  is  sought  by  a  young  man  having  every 
advantage — fortune,  intelligence,  rank — he  is  amiable,  and,  per- 


166  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

haps,  beloTed,  but  a  stranger  to  piety,  to  whom  she  cannot  be 
united  without  endangering  her  faith.  This  again  is  Satan  say- 
ing, "  If  thou  wilt  worship  me,  all  shall  be  thine."  "  See  what  a 
prospect  opens  before  thee  :  what  honor,  what  happiness,  what 
love  !  wouldst  thou  be  deprived  of  all  this  ?  and  for  what  ?  for 
the  sad  pleasure  of  leading  an  austere  and  gloomy  life  ?  Keep 
thy  faith,  thou  mayest  only  conceal  it  in  thy  heart,  and  be  of 
the  world  whilst  thou  art  in  the  world."  How  can  artless 
youth  resist  a  manoeuvre  of  the  enemy  so  cunningly  devised  ? 
By  this  simple  word  :  ''  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  ;  for  it  is 
written.  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only 
shalt  thou  serve."  Yes,  my  young  sister,  answer  him  thus,  and 
your  victory  is  secure.  "  The  grace  of  the  Lord  is  sufficient  for 
you."  Go  and  lay  down  quietly  at  the  foot  of  his  cross  all  the 
dreams  of  happiness  which  your  poor  heart  has  entertained,  and 
you  will  find  in  the  love  of  God  enough  to  repay,  with  interest, 
your  greatest  sacrifices. 

The  sanctuary  is  no  shelter  against  the  offers  of  an  alliance 
with  Satan.  A  young  minister,  enriched  with  the  choicest  of 
God's  gifts,  enters  into  the  service  of  the  church.  He  can  aspire 
to  the  glory  of  the  world,  to  the  applause  of  man,  to  the  most 
lucrative  or  influential  ofi&ces  ;  but  to  obtain  these  he  must 
either  preach  the  doctrines  of  the  age,  or  accommodate  truth  to 
its  fastidiousness,  or  join  in  the  frivolity  of  its  pleasures,  or 
make  common  cause  with  it  against  God's  children.  This  again, 
is  Satan  saying,  "If  thou  wilt  worship  me,  all  shall  be  thine." 
How  many  young  ministers  perhaps  yield  to  this  temptation  I 
How  many  a  Demas  has  forsaken  his  brethren,  "  having  loved 
this  present  world  I"  How  many  have  believed  on  Jesus,  yet 
*'  do  not  confess  him,  because  they  love  the  praise  of  men  more 
than  the  praise  of  God  !"  Oh,  my  young  friends,  be  faithful,  be 
unmovable  I  answer  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan  :  for  it  is 
written.  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only 
shalt  thou  serve."  If  you  seek  to  please  men,  you  will  not  be 
the  servants  of  Christ.     Confess  Jesus  Christ  for  your  God,  his 


THE   WEAPON    IN   CIIKISt's    CONFLICT.  1G7 

word  for  your  rule,  and  his  people  for  your  people,  and  "  when 
the  chief  shepherd  shall  appear,  ye  shall  receive  from  his  hands 
a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away." 

Twice  overcome,  Satan  makes  a  last  attempt,  for  which  we 
may  presume  that  he  will  collect  all  his  stratagems,  all  his 
resources.  "  He  brought  him  to  Jerusalem,  and  set  him  on  a 
pinnacle  of  the  temple,  and  said  unto  him.  If  thou  be  the  Son 
of  God,  cast  thyself  down  ;  for  it  is  written.  He  shall  give  his 
angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee,  and  in  their  hands  they 
shall  bear  thee,  lest  at  any  time  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a 
stone." 

In  order  to  understand  well  the  spirit  of  this  temptation,  we 
must  oppose  it  to  the  first,  with  which  it  forms  an  evident  con- 
trast. The  tempter  had  endeavored  in  vain  to  make  Jesus  doubt 
his  Father  ;  this  means,  the  first  which  he  generally  employs, 
and  which  succeeded  but  too  well  with  Eve,  had  failed  before 
the  firm  faith  of  Jesus  in  God's  assistance.  Then  the  tempter 
conceives  the  hope  of  seducing  him,  by  that  very  confidence, 
although  a  perversion  of  that  confidence. 

He  disguises  himself  as  an  angel  of  light ;  he  surrounds  him- 
self with  holy  things  ;  he  conducts  Jesus  to  the  holy  city,  places 
him  upon  the  pinnacle  of  the  holy  temple,  and  encourages  him 
by  the  holy  word  of  God,  to  throw  himself  fearlessly  down,  that 
he  may  give  to  the  multitude,  by  the  miracle  of  the  promised 
protection,  a  striking  proof  of  what  he  really  is.  Yes,  but  was 
the  hazardous  act  proposed  by  Satan  to  Jesus,  necessary  ?  was  it 
according  to  God's  will  ?  did  it  present  the  conditions  required 
to  make  the  promise  of  the  ninety-first  psalm  applicable  ?  Had 
Jesus  yielded  to  the  suggestions  of  the  tempter,  He  would  have 
presumptuously  claimed  his  Father's  fidelity  ;  He  would  have 
used  God's  word  more  as  an  amusement  than  as  a  support  ;  Ho 
would  have  created  the  danger  for  the  frivolous  satisfaction  of 
obtaining  the  deliverance  ;  and  that  deliverance  failing.  He  would 
have  risked  the  glory  of  God  as  much  by  his  blind  and  presump- 
tuous confidence,  as  be  would  have  served  him  by  humble  and 


168  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

obedient  faith.  Therefore  He  answers  without  hesitating,  to  his 
treacherous  adviser  :  "  It  is  said,  Thou  shaltnot  temj^t  the  Lord 
thy  God." 

What  is  "  tempting  God  ?"  Why  would  Jesus  have  "  tempted 
God,"  by  throwing  himself  down  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  ? 
"  To  tempt,"  or  to  to-y  God,*  is,  as  the  natural  meaning  of  tlie 
words  indicates,  to  put  God  upon  trial,  and  thus  to  test  his  faith- 
fulness ;  while  faith  simply  trusts  to  God,  and  relies  upon  his 
fidelity  as  upon  an  immovable  rock.  Faith  speaks  thus  :  "  God 
has  said,  and  will  He  not  perform  it  ?"  The  only  pledge  He  asks 
of  His  promise,  is  the  promise  itself.  He  who  tempts  God,  speaks 
altogether  another  language  :  Can  God  do  it  ?  Will  He  do  it  ? 
Then,  in  his  anxiety  to  solve  his  doubt,  he  takes  upon  himself  to 
prescribe  to  God  certain  conditions,  which  he  must  see  accom- 
plished before  he  can  rest  upon  his  promise.  The  Israelites 
tempted  the  Lord  at  Rephidim,  by  asking  water  to  drink,  and 
asking  in  such  a  spirit,  that  they  would  judge,  from  the  recep- 
tion given  to  their  request,  "  whether  the  Lord  was  amongst 
them  or  no."  They  tempted  him  again  at  Kibrath  Hattaavah, 
by  demanding  a  new  species  of  nourishment,  and  by  saying  : 
"  Behold,  He  smote  the  rock,  and  the  waters  gushed  out,  and  the 
streams  overflowed  ;  can  He  give  bread  also  :  can  He  provide 
flesh  for  his  people  ?" 

Under  forms  less  gross,  the  same  spirit  reappears  in  the  Chris- 
tian church.  The  new  disciples  who  opposed  the  Apostles  in  the 
council  of  Jerusalem,  tempted  God,  by  seeking  to  impose  upon 
the  converted  Gentiles  a  yoke  which  they  themselves  had  not 
been  able  to  wear  ;  whereby  they  seemed  to  impose  upon  God 
the  necessity  of  an  extraordinary  outpouring  of  His  grace,  such 
as  they  had  no  right  to  expect.  This  conduct  is  the  more  repre- 
hensible because,  when  the  Lord  is  thus  provoked,  if  it  please 
Him  to  refuse  the  conditions  which  men  have  thus  dared  to  prc- 

*  "Tour  fathers  have  tempted  me  and  proved  me;  they  have  also  seen  my  works." 
The  word  to  prove,  which  signiflcs  properly  to  try,  explains  the  word  to  tempt  which 
precedes.  The  idea  of  the  verse  is  this  :  As  your  fathers  put  my  power  to  the  proof,  I 
made  it  known  to  them  by  displaying  it  against  them. — See  besides  Is.  vii.  12  ;  Acts  v.  9. 


1 


THE   WEAPON   IN    CHKISt's    CONFLICT.  1G9 

scribe,  either  His  character  or  Ilis  word  will  seem  to  be  at  fault : 
false  confidence  borders  upon  distrust,  and  presumption  upon 
unbelief ;  their  principle  and  their  results  are  similar.  Jesus,  in 
His  turn,  would  have  tempted  God,  if  He  had  thrown  himself 
down  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  ;  for  having  neither  com- 
mand nor  necessity  to  impel  him  to  so  strange  an  act,  he  could 
not  say  :  God  will  keep  me  ;  but  at  most.  Will  God  keep  me  ? 
will  He  conduct  me  safe  to  the  ground  ?     Let  me  try. 

Had  He  said  this  but  once,  he  would  have  been  defeated  ; 
but  His  refusal.  His  quotation  from  the  Scriptures,  "  Thou 
shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God,"  disconcerts  the  adver- 
sary's plan,  and  puts  him  to  flight  for  the  third  and  last 
time.  Dear  brethren,  Satan  can  tempt  us  also  to  tempt  God. 
Examples  abound  ;  the  difficulty  is  only  in  the  selection. 

"  Silver  and  gold  belong  to  the  Lord  of  hosts."  For  an 
undertaking  formed  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  conducted  accord- 
ing to  His  Spirit,  we  may  expect  from  Him  the  needful  resources. 
He  will  not  put  our  faith  to  shame  :  and  certainly,  without  that 
faith,  the  noblest  works  of  Christian  piety  and  charity  would 
have  been  stopped  at  their  commencement.  Francke,  Coto- 
lingo,  Mary  Calame,  for  instance,  would  have  failed  in  their 
respective  missions.  "  But  beware,  under  pretence  of  confidence 
in  God,  of  rushing  inconsiderately  into  the  first  path  which 
opens  before  you.  Here,  too,  you  will  have  to  guard  against  the 
suggestions  of  Satan.  He  will  prompt  you,  sometimes,  to  mis- 
take for  an  inspiration  from  God  a  design  which,  notwithstanding 
its  plausible  appearance,  tends  less  to  His  glory  than  to  your 
own  ;  sometimes  to  incur,  even  in  the  execution  of  a  plan 
approved  by  God,  which  are  neither  commanded  by  necessity, 
nor  consistent  with  evangelical  simplicity  ;  sometimes  to  antici- 
pate impatiently  the  time  of  God,  and  thus  to  disturb  that  slow 
and  sure  progress  by  which  He  delights  to  insure  the  success  of 
the  cause,  whilst  He  brings  into  exercise  the  submission  of  the 
instrument.  What  dost  thou  fear,  the  tempter  will  say,  0  man 
of  little  faith  ?     Go  on  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.     Give,  promise, 

8 


170  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

uurcliase,  build,  do  whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do.  If  thou 
art  a  child  of  God,  trust  thy  Father,  "  cast  thyself  down." 
Listen  to  Him,  and  you  will  find  yourself  insensibly  bound  by 
obligations  which  you  cannot  meet.  Then  the  Gospel  will  be 
compromised  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  ;  which  will  say,  when  it 
beholds  your  unfinished  projects  :  This  man  began  to  build,  and 
was  not  able  to  finish  ;  "  and  you  yourself  may  be  annoyed  by 
pecuniary  difficulties  which  will  break  your  heart,  if  they  do  not 
shake  your  faith."  Avoid  so  great  an  evil,  by  walking  carefully 
with  God,  by  tempering  the  liberty  of  Christ  with  the  prudence 
of  Christ,  by  forsaking  the  trodden  path  only  to  answer  a  mam 
fest  vocation,  or  to  obey  a  sure  direction  of  the  Spirit :  this  is 
the  secret  of  prayer.  In  all  other  circumstances,  "  thou  shalt 
not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God  :"  let  this  be  your  answer,  and  this 
the  ground  of  your  peace. 

Fathers  and  mothers,  you  are  about  to  supply  me  with  my 
second  example  :  Lend  me  an  attentive  ear.  I  will  suppose  the 
time  to  have  come  for  your  son  or  your  daughter  to  leave  the 
paternal  roof  and  turn  to  account  the  resources  of  public 
instruction,  either  to  complete  their  studies,  or  to  form  their 
mind  and  character.  What  principles  will  guide  you  in  the 
selection,  so  serious  and  so  difficult,  of  that  second  family  to 
whom  you  are  about  to  intrust  your  child  ?  If  you  think  above 
all  of  "  the  one  thing  needful,"  you  will  experience  the  truth  of 
this  promise  :  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  His  righteous- 
ness, and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto  you."  But  if,  too 
anxious  for  the  glory  which  comes  from  men,  you  seek,  before 
everything  else,  for  your  son  the  means  of  distinguishing  himself 
in  the  world,  and  for  your  daughter  the  means  of  pleasing  the 
world  ;  if  you  place  them  for  years  in  a  circle  where  the  name 
of  Christ  is  neither  honored,  loved,  nor  perhaps  even  known  ; 
nay,  if  you  surrender  that  confiding  spirit  and  inflexible  intellect 
to  the  influence  of  a  proselytism,  blind,  obstinate,  and  whose 
very  scruples  your  own  recklessness  seems  to  have  tried  to  over- 
come, what  will  you  have  done  1)ut  tempt  God  ?     The  voice  that 


THE  WEAPON   IN   CHKISt's    CONFLICT.  171 

then  whispers  :  "  Are  not  the  advantages  of  a  brilliant  education 
worth  some  sacrifices  ?  Besides,  cannot  God  preserve  thy  child 
from  the  contagion  of  error,  or  the  seduction  of  example  ? 
Cannot  you  win  him  over  to  piety,  except  by  a  kind  of  Bible- 
persecution  ?" — whence  comes  that  voice  but  from  him  to  whom 
Jesus  said  :  "  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God  ?"  Alas  ! 
how  many  parents  I  might  name,  who  now  weep  bitterly  their 
sin  and  folly  in  relying  upon  God  to  deliver  their  children  from 
dangers  into  which  they  had  plunged  them  without  His  per- 
mission !  Another  time,  the  tempter  will  induce  you  to  frequent 
questionable  company,  because  God  can  guard  you  from  all  evil  ; 
or  to  dissipate  your  inner  life  by  frivolous,  if  not  corrupt  read- 
ing, because  God  can  preserve  you  from  the  influence  of  the 
poison  ;  or  to  listen  to  divines  who  preach  dangerous  innovations, 
because  God  can  close  your  heart  against  the  seduction  of  their 
discourses.  These  are  so  many  varieties  of  His  advice  to  Jesus  : 
"  Cast  thyself  down."  It  is  written  :  "  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the 
Lord  thy  God."  When  exposed  to  any  danger  by  the  will  of 
God,  be  firm  and  immovable  ;  but  never  create  perils  for  your- 
selves ;  never  try  God,  never  engage  His  glory  for  naught  ;  and 
if  placed  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  do  not  cast  yourselves 
down,  but  descend  quietly  and  humbly  by  the  stairs  of  the 
edifice. 

But  there  is  in  this  last  temptation,  one  feature  which  deserves 
our  particular  attention  ;  it  is  the  use  which  Satan  makes  of  the 
Scriptures.  He  sees  that  by  them  Jesus  has  twice  repulsed  him  ; 
he  forms  the  audacious  project  of  turning  against  his  conqueror 
that  sword  of  the  Spirit  of  which  he  has  just  experienced  the 
irresistible  power.  Wonderful  dexterity  of  the  tempter,  who 
finds  instruments  in  everything,  and  who,  arming  himself  against 
us  with  our  own  resources,  endeavors  to  make  us  weak  through 
our  strcngh,  as  God  makes  us  strong  through  our  weakness. 
"  Cast  thyself  down  from  hence  ;  for  it  is  written,  He  shall  give 
His  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  ;  and  in  their  hands 
they  shall  bear  thee  up,  lest  at  any  time  thou  dash  thy  foot 


172  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

against  a  stone."  Wherein  consists  the  perfidy  of  this  quotation  ? 
Some  answer,  that  Satan  mahciously  mutilates  the  passage  which 
he  adduces  ;  the  Psalmist  had  said  :  *'He  shall  give  His  angels 
charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways  ;*'  and  these  last 
words,  which  the  tempter  suppresses,  show  that  we  can  reckon 
upon  the  promised  assistance,  only  as  long  as  we  remain  in  the 
path  of  our  calling. 

This  remark  seems  to  me  subtle  ;  it  would  seem  also  that  if 
it  were  well  founded,  Jesus  would  have  answered  by  reestablish- 
ing in  its  integrity  the  mutilated  text.  The  assistance  guaranteed 
in  the  91st  Psalm  has  its  fixed  conditions — conditions  from  which 
Jesus  would  have  wandered,  had  He  cast  himself  down  from  the 
pinnacle  of  the  temple.  God  intends  to  strengthen  against 
danger  those  of  His  children  v/ho  are  unavoidably  exposed  to  it, 
not  those  who  rush  into  it  by  choice  and  with  necessity.  But  as 
this  restriction  is  not  found  in  the  expressions  of  the  Psalmist, 
how  will  Jesus  prove  that  it  was  in  the  mind  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ? 
Will  He  do  so  by  appealing  to  reason  or  to  natural  feeling  ? 
No,  He  will  do  it  by  an  appeal  to  the  Scriptures  themselves. 
Jesus  does  not  answer  :  "  The  meaning  thou  givest  to  this  pas- 
sage cannot  be  the  true  one,  because  it  is  too  far  fetched."  He 
answers  :  ''  This  meaning  cannot  be  the  true  one,  because  it  is 
contrary  to  another  Scripture."  This  intention  of  the  Lord  is 
still  more  evident  in  Matthew's  narrative,  which  adds  to  that  of 
Luke  the  word  again,  very  significant  in  this  place  :  "It  is  writ- 
ten again,  thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God."  We  must 
combine  these  two  testimonies  which  complete  and  explain  one 
another  ;  and  Jesus  has  no  right  to  rely  upon  the  intervention 
of  angels,  except  on  condition  of  not  tempting  God. 

This  is  very  instructive.  There  are  in  the  Bible,  written  not 
by  philosophers  for  philosophers,  but  by  simple  men  for  simple 
men,  passages  which  need  elucidation,  and  which,  when  not  well 
understood,  can  supply  the  tempter  with  arms  against  us  y  the 
elucidation  must  be  sought,  not  from  human  wisdom,  but  from 
the  Scriptures  speaking  in  another  place.     Besides,  if  we  allow 


THE   WEAPON   IN   CIIRISt's    CONFLICT  173 

human  wisdom  to  qualify  the  Scripture,  where  shall  we  stop  ? 
AV^e  shall  soon  see  one  rejecting-  the  doctrine  of  the  devil's  person- 
ality, as  opposed  to  his  reason  ;  another  discarding  that  of  the 
eternity  of  punishments,  as  wounding  his  feelings  ;  a  third,  hiding 
that  of  the  atonement  under  glosses  which  destroy  it ;  and 
there  will  remain  no  divine  authority.  Scripture  can  be  qualified 
only  by  Scripture;  and  to  an  "it  is  written,"  the  only  solid 
objection  we  can  oppose,  is,  "it  is  written  again." 

Satan  beholds  a  Christian  applying  himself  dihgently  to  the 
work  of  his  salvation,  praying  without  ceasing,  meditating  on 
the  Scriptures  night  and  day,  and  watching  to  avoid  the  pollu- 
tion of  the  world.  He  has  vainly  attempted  to  turn  him  from 
prayer,  to  make  him  doubt  God's  words,  to  inspire  him  with 
the  love  of  this  present  world.  He  then  takes  up  his  Bible — 
you  have  just  seen  that  he  has  one — and  begins  speaking  to  him 
after  this  fashion  :  "  Why,  friend,  what  burden  is  this  you  are 
laying  upon  yourself?  Must  you  serve  God  till  you  are  quite 
out  of  breath  ?  A  glance  at  you  is  enough  to  disgust  any  one 
with  religion.  I  will  teach  you  a  way  both  easier  and  more 
orthodox  ;  for,  after  all,  your  sanctification  is  the  work  of  God, 
not  your  own.  Be  not  so  strict.  Follow  the  inclination  of  your 
heart,  and  leave  God  to  do  the  work  ;  It  is  written  :  "  It  is  God 
which  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  plea- 
sure." Ah  !  yes,  follow  the  inclination  of  your  heart,  and  I  can 
readily  believe  that  the  devil  will  be  less  anxious  about  you. 
Ah,  my  brother,  answer  that  "holy  Satan,"  as  Luther  some- 
where calls  him  :  It  is  written  again,  "  Work  out  your  own 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling."  "Strive  to  enter  at  the 
strait  gate." 

Satan  proposes  to  abate  the  activity  of  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel,  whose  powerful  preaching  is  making  a  breach  in  "  the 
gates  of  hell."  He  has  vainly  endeavored  to  stop  him  in  his 
work  by  discouragement,  by  vain  glory,  by  the  hatred  of  the 
world.  He  then  has  recourse  to  Scripture,  and  says  :  "Man  of 
God,  why  are  you  at  so  much  pains  about  the  spiritual  food 


174  ADOLniE   MONOD. 

which  you  should  give  to  your  people  ?  Cau  you  not  say  things 
holy,  true,  and  wholesome,  without  thus  wasting  your  strength 
over  your  Bible  and  your  books  ?  Go  more  simply  to  work. 
Trust  to  the  fluency  of  speech  God  has  given  you  ;  surrender 
yourself  up  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  say  what  he  puts  into  your 
heart.  Thus  you  will  honor  the  Lord  more,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  extra  time  which  you  will  gain  for  his  service.  It  is  written, 
*  It  shall  be  given  you  in  that  same  hour  what  ye  shall  speak  ; 
for  it  is  not  ye  that  speak,  but  the  spirit  of  your  Father  which 
speaketh  in  you.' "  This,  my  friends,  is  a  snare  nicely  adjusted 
to  your  natural  indolence.  If  you  fall  into  it,  you  will  have 
reason  to  fear  lest  your  preaching  should  be  struck  with  imbe- 
cility, as  has  been  the  case  with  so  many  of  God's  servants,  who, 
under  specious  pretences,  dispense  with  troublesome  work,  in 
order  to  indulge  in  spontaneous  effusions  which  costs  no  effort. 
But  here  is  your  deliverance.  Answer  :  It  is  also  written, 
"  Give  attendance  to  reading,  to  exhortation,  to  doctrine.  Neg- 
lect not  the  gift  that  is  in  thee  ;  take  heed  unto  thyself  and 
unto  the  doctrine  5  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt  both  save  thyself 
and  them  that  hear  thee.^' 

And  so  for  all  the  rest  of  the  scriptural  temptations  of  Satan. 
Be  upon  your  guard  against  all  the  devil's  interpretations,  and 
refuse  them  simply  by  the  Scripture  itself.  What  one  passage 
omits,  will  be  told  you  in  another  ;  as  if  the  Bible  judged  him 
alone  worthy  to  penetrate  its  inmost  sense,  who  endeavors  to 
bring  together  and  reconcile  its  various  teachings.  If  it  is 
written,  "  man  is  justified  by  faith  without  the  works  of  the 
law,"  it  is  again,  "  Faith  without  works  is  dead."  If  it  is  writ- 
ten, "  Neither  be  ye  called  masters,  for  one  is  your  Master,  even 
Christ  ;"  it  is  written  again,  "  Obey  them  that  have  the  rule 
over  you,  and  submit  yourselves."  If  it  is  written,  "Your 
Father  knoweth  what  things  ye  have  need  of,  before  ye  ask 
him  ;"  it  is  written  again,  "  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive  ;  seek, 
and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you." 
If  it  is  written,  "I  am  persuaded  that  no  creature  shall  be  able 


175 

to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  wliich  is  in  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord  ;"  it  is  written  again,  ''  Happy  is  the  man  that  fear- 
cth  always."  If  it  is  written,  "  To  the  pure  all  tilings  are  pure  ;" 
it  is  written  again,  "Abstain  from  all  appearance  of  evil." 

By  the  example  of  Jesus  refuting  the  threefold  attack  of  the 
tempter,  you  have  just  learned,  my  dear  bretln-en,  the  use  you 
should  make  of  the  Scriptures  against  temptation.  But  to  fol- 
low this  example,  you  must  know  the  Scriptures  as  Jesus  knew 
them.  Do  not  be  astonished  that  I  speak  of  the  knowledge 
which  Christ  had  of  the  Scriptures  :  for  we  cannot  repeat  it  too 
often,  though  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  he  was  likewise  the  Sou 
of  man,  and  it  is  as  the  Son  of  man  that  he  overcame  in  the 
wilderness.  How  familiar  must  the  Bible  have  been  to  him  who 
could  quote  from  it  with  so  much  precision,  who  could  adapt  it 
so  exactly  to  the  infinite  variety  of  human  temptations  !  Jesus 
is  as  familiar  with  the  Scriptures  as  we  are  with  a  city  which  we 
have  know^n  from  our  infancy,  have  crossed  and  recrossed  from 
end  to  end,  and  of  which  each  street,  each  square,  and  each 
house  is  engraven  on  our  memory.  Thus  ought  you  to  know 
the  Scriptures.  You  cannot  hope  to  fight  effectively  against  the 
enemy  with  a  mere  smattering  of  the  Word  of  God. 

The  more  precise  you  are  in  the  use  you  make  of  it,  the 
stronger  you  will  be.  For  the  special  temptation  which  assails 
you,  there  may  be  a  special  declaration  of  the  Holy  Spirit — a 
declaration  for  which  no  other  would  be  a  comi^lete  substitute  : 
you  must  discover  it.  The  Scriptures  must  be  for  you  an 
arsenal,  so  well  explored  that  you  can  immediately  lay  your 
hand  upon  the  weapon  w^hich  you  require  for  your  defence  ;  or  a 
dispensary,  so  well  ordered  that  you  can  find  immedio,tely  the 
precise  remedy  for  your  disease.  You  cannot  constantly  have 
your  Bible  before  your  eyes  ;  you  must  carry  it  about  in  your 
heart,  if  you  desire  that  it  should  never  fail  you.  But  in  order 
to  that,  what  a  study  of  the  Scriptures — what  constant  reading 
— what  deep  meditation  !  Well,  this  is  only  what  God  has  him- 
self prescribed  to  us  :  "  Blessed  is  the  man  whose  delight  is  in 


176  ADOLPIIE   MONOD. 

the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  in  liis  law  doth  he  meditate  day  and 
night !" 

"  This  book  of  the  law  shall  not  depart  out  of  thy  mouth,  but 
thou  shalt  meditate  therein  day  and  night."  This  is  only  doing 
what  those  holy  men  did  whose  example  we  are  called  upon  to 
follow.     "  Ob,  how  I  love  thy  law  !  it  is  my  meditation  all  the 

day Mine  eyes  prevent  the  night-watches,  that  I  may 

meditate  in  thy  Word.  ...  At  midnight  I  will  rise  to  give 
thanks  unto  thee,  because  of  thy  righteous  judgments."  This 
is  only  copying  the  example  given  us  by  our  forefathers,  even  in 
the  days  of  the  wilderness  and  of  martyrdom  ;  those  old  wit- 
nesses, respecting  whom  it  has  been  said  that  if  the  Bible  should 
ever  be  lost,  the  combined  recollections  of  a  few  among  them 
would  have  sufficed  to  write  it  out  again  from  the  beginnhig  to 
the  end.  What  then,  0  my  God,  is  the  state  into  which  we 
have  fallen  !  What  ignorance  of  the  Scriptures  among  our 
people  I  What  ignorance  of  the  Scriptures  among  our  pastors  I 
Lord  restore  to  us  the  former  days  ! 

But  farther,  that  mere  .knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  by  which 
we  may  remember  them  from  one  end  to  the  other,  is  not  what 
it  is  most  important  we  should  imitate  in  the  conduct  of  Jesus. 
If  he  triumphs  through  the  Scriptures,  it  is  because  he  appre- 
hends their  meaning  and  their  spirit  ;  not  because  he  knows  the 
words  which  they  contain.  The  Bible  contains  the  precepts  of 
the  kingdom  of  God,  but  those  precepts  are  clothed  in  an 
earthly  form  ;  and  he  alone  penetrates  it,  who  is  able  to  disen- 
gage the  heavenly  maxims  from  the  human  covering  which  sur- 
rounds them.  This  is  what  Jesus  does  in  my  text :  he  goes 
deeper  than  the  surface  of  the  volume,  he  sounds  "  the  thoughts 
and  intents  "  of  what  "  is  written."  I  need  no  other  proof  of 
this  than  the  first  of  his  three  quotations,  "  Man  shall  not  live 
by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  of  God."  You  mijst  grant 
that  if  you  had  been  tempted  like  the  Lord,  you  never  have 
thought  of  defending  yourself  with  this  passage;  and  that  it  might 
have  often  passed  and  repassed  under  your  eyes,  without  sug- 


1Y7 

gesting  to  you  the  tliouglit  which  Jesus  found  therein.  You 
would  have  found  there  the  wonderful  fact  of  the  manna 
granted  to  the  Israelites  instead  of  bread  ;  a  pledge  of  hope  for 
any  nation  placed  in  similar  circumstances,  if  those  circum- 
stances should  ever  be  renewed  ;  an  encouraging  proof  of  God's 
love  for  his  creatures,  and  of  his  faithfulness  towards  his  people; 
but  there  your  interpretation  would  have  stopped,  limited  by 
the  history  and  the  miracle.  How  much  more  penetrating  is 
that  of  Jesus  !  lie  goes  to  the  very  foundation,  he  arrives  at 
the  very  intent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ;  and  deeper  than  the 
miracle,  beneath  the  history,  beneath  all  that  is  transitory,  he 
discovers  this  general  and  permanent  principle  :  All  virtue 
resides  in  the  word  of  God,  whirh  is  not  restricted  to  the  means  it 
usually  cmjploys. 

At  that  depth,  Israel's  temptation  and  that  of  Jesus  meet 
together,  if  I  may  so  speak,  under  ground,  and  at  the  root ;  so 
that  the  word  of  Moses,  interpreted  by  Jesus  Christ,  applies  as 
well  to  the  second  as  to  the  first  ;  I  may  say  yet  more,  it  applies 
equally  to  the  temptations  of  God's  children  in  all  ages. 

And  yet  in  this  application  of  the  words  of  Moses,  extended 
and  varied  as  it  is,  there  is  nothing  either  forced  or  arbitrary  ; 
not  even  either  allegory  or  double  meaning  ;  nothing  but  the  pro- 
found meaning  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  hidden  in  the  profound  lan- 
guage of  the  Scriptures,  the  true  substance  in  the  true  form. 
Such,  my  dear  friends,  is  the  interjoretation  of  Jesus  Christ  ;  spi- 
ritual and  substantial  ;  alike  accessible  to  the  learned  and  to  the 
simple  ;  alike  attractive  to  the  understanding  and  wholesome  to 
the  soul.  Compared  with  it,  how  superficial  and  cold  is  our 
common  method  of  interpretation,  even  when  it  is  the  most 
learned  and  the  most  conscientious  ! 

No  wonder  :  for  the  one  is  encumbered  by  the  things  of  earth, 
while  the  other  rises  to  the  everlasting  thoughts  of  heaveu.  How 
beautiful  a  book  would  the  Bible  be — and,  alas  !  liow  nicio  a 
book  to  us— if  studied  in  this  spirit  I  The  Bible— if  I  may  be 
allowed  the  expression — is  heaven-spolien  ;  but  wc  nuist  separate 


178  ADOLPliE   MONOD. 

heaven  from  the  v\'ord  which  invests  it,  while  it  reveals  it  ;  and 
this  is  what  Jesus  Christ  teaches  us  to  do.  It  is  an  interpreta- 
tion, moreover,  which  no  commentary  can  supply  for  us  ;  we 
must  seek  it  upon  our  knees,  saying  to  God  :  "  Open  thou  mine 
eyes,  that  I  may  behold  wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law  !"  Then 
we  shall  receive  God's  witness  within  ourselves  ;  then  what 
is  written  in  the  heart  will  agree  so  well  with  what  is  written  in 
the  book,  that  we  shall  recognize  in  both  the  work  of  the  same 
Spirit.  The  Bible,  we  said,  just  now,  is  heaven-spoken  ;  the  Bible 
thus  listened  to,  would  he  heaven  seen,  felt,  lived  ! 

We  have  reached,  dear  brethren,  the  end  of  our  proposed 
task.  For  three  Sundays  I  have  spoken  to  you  of  the  tempta- 
tion of  Jesus  in  the  wilderness  ;  this  is  not  too  much  for  so  vast, 
so  instructive  a  subject.  As  for  me,  1  shall  remember  with  pecu- 
liar feelings  the  three  weeks  during  which  I  have  steadily  con- 
templated the  struggle  my  Saviour  underwent,  the  victory  He 
obtained,  and  the  weapon  by  which  He  conquered.  I  have 
found  in  this  contemplation  something  particularly  solemn  and 
salutary  ;  and  I  hope,  through  God's  faithfulness,  that  it  wall  not 
be  without  a  blessing  either  to  me  or  to  yourselves.  Return 
often  to  the  wilderness.  Whenever  the  number  and  the  strength 
of  the  temptations  to  which  you  are  exposed,  seem  ready  to 
overwhelm  you,  remember  that  Jesus  w^as  tempted  in  all  things 
like  as  you  are.  Whenever  you  have  any  doubts  about  the 
possibility  of  resistance,  remember  that  Jesus  bruised  Satan 
under  His  feet,  and  has  promised  to  bruise  him  under  yours  also. 

Finally,  whenever  you  are  uncertain  respecting  the  means 
which  you  should  employ  in  order  to  overcome,  remember  that 
Jesus  repelled  all  the  blows  of  the  adversary,  and  forced  him 
at  last  to  retreat,  with  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  alone. 

And  you,  my  future  fellow-laborers,  I  cannot  dismiss  this  sub- 
ject, without  addressing  to  you  a  special  exhortation  which  I 
recommend  to  your  most  serious  attention.  The  temptation  of 
Jesus  is  placed  between  the  end  of  His  personal  preparation,  and 


170 

the  beginning  of  Ilis  public  life.  There  is  in  your  eourse,  a  cor- 
responding moment  :  it  is  the  interval  which  separates  the  con- 
clusion of  your  studies  from  the  commencement  of  your  ministry.* 
Be  car(;ful  of  this  interval  ;  it  may  decide  your  whole  career. 
Consecrate  it  as  a  spiritual  retreat  ;  spend  it  in  the  company  of 
Jesus  wrestling  in  the  desert  ;  and  when  you  enter  the  church, 
let  men  recognize  in  you  the  men  who  have  just  left  the  wil- 
derness. The  wilderness,  and  not  the  world  !  If  you  are  full  of 
the  recollections  of  the  world,  if  you  have  just  breathed  the 
impure  atmosphere  of  its  vanities  and  pleasures,  you  are  not  fit 
for  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  wilderness,  and  not  Naza- 
reth !  If  you  are  governed  by  family  affections  ;  if,  in  selecting 
a  field  of  labor,  your  first  consideration  is  a  father  or  a  mother, 
a  wife  or  child,  you  are  not  fit  for  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ. 
The  wilderness,  and  not  the  school !  If  you  are  still  covered 
with  the  dust  of  the  academy  ;  if  your  faith,  your  knowledge,  is 
only  that  of  books,  you  are  not  fit  for  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Jesus  Christ  has  need  of  ministers  separated  from  the  world, 
unfettered  by  creature  engagements,  and  nourished  by  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Either  be  men  of  the  wilderness,  or  not 
be  men  of  the  cliurcli  !     Amen. 


*  The  reader  is  again  reminded  that  these  three  discourses  were  preached  paiticularly 
to  the  theological  students  at  Montauban. 


DISCOURSE   VII. 
THE    OMNIPOTENCE    OF    FAITH. 

Then  Jesus  went  thence,  and  departed  into  the  coasts  of  Tjre  and  Sidon.  And  behold 
a  woman  of  Canaan  came  out  of  the  same  coasts,  and  cried  unto  him,  saying  :  Have 
mercy  on  me,  0  Lord,  thou  Son  of  David,  my  daughter  is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil. 
But  he  answered  her  not  a  word.  And  his  disciples  came  and  besought  him,  saying,  send 
her  away ;  for  she  crieth  after  us.  But  he  answered  and  said,  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the 
lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel.  Then  came  she  and  worshipped  him,  saying.  Lord  help 
me.  But  he  answered  and  said  :  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread,  and  cast  it 
to  dogs.  And  she  answered  and  said :  Truth,  Lord,  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which 
fall  from  their  master's  table.  Then  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her :  0  Woman,  great 
is  thy  faith :  be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt.  And  her  daughter  was  made  whole  from 
that  very  hour. — Matth.  xv.  21-28. 

There  is  a  faith  which  makes  man  more  mighty  than  God. 
But  this  assertion  we  would  not  dare  to  make,  had  not  God 
himself  authorized  us,  when  he  said  to  Jacob,  "  Thy  name  shall 
be  called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel  ;  for  as  a  prince  hast 
thou  power  with  God,  and  with  men,  and  hath  prevailed."  We 
find  in  our  woman  of  Canaan  an  accomplished  model  of  this 
faith  ;  and  if  she  was  not  an  Israelite  by  birth,  she  was  truly 
one  by  sentiment.  For  what  do  we  see  in  our  text,  but  a  struggle 
between  the  Lord  and  her,  from  which  she  comes  forth  ''  more 
than  conqueror  ?"  Let  us  notice  the  successive  phases  of  the 
combat ;  we  shall  learn  therefrom  in  a  few  words,  more  of  the 
power  of  faith  than  the  most  perfect  treatise  could  impart. 

We  will  begin  by  observing  the  position  of  this  woman,  and 
the  conduct  of  the  Lord  towards  her. 

Doubtless  the  woman  of  Canaan  believed  in  Jesus  Christ  pro- 


THE   0:MNTP0TENCE   of   FAITir.  181 

vious  to  tlic  scene  narrated  in  our  text.  But  liow  did  slie  attain 
to  such  faith  ?  It  is  well  to  inquire  ;  for  in  her  conversion  may 
be  remarked  that  strength  of  soul  which  triumphs  over  all 
obstacles,  and  such  a  commencement  explains  all  that  follows. 
She  was  a  Gentile,  as  her  name  indicates  ;  and  had  not  acquired, 
with  other  Gentiles  who  had  been  converted  to  the  Lord,  such 
as  Zaccheus,  or  the  Centurion,  the  privilege  of  dwelling  among 
the  Jews.  Thus,  living  at  a  distance  from  the  Lord,  from  his 
disciples,  and  from  all  the  privileges  of  Judea,  she  had  become 
acquainted  with  the  word  of  God  only  through  the  medium  of 
Jewish  prejudices,  the  fame  occasioned  by  the  Saviour's  dis- 
courses, and  the  miracles  which  He  had  performed  either  for  the 
benefit  of  His  own  people  or  for  the  good  of  strangers.  By  such 
insufficient  means  had  she  been  led  to  faith  ;  and  to  what  faith, 
while  a  multitude  of  Jews  were  closing  their  eyes  to  the  flood  of 
light  with  which  the  "  Word  of  God  made  flesh"  was  inundating 
them  I  So  true  it  is  that  salvation  depends  less  upon  the  posi- 
tion than  the  disposition.  The  Abrahams,  the  Rahabs,  the 
Naamans  believe,  while  the  Caiaphases,  the  Judases,  and  the 
Demases  harden  themselves  or  turn  aside.  And  we,  my  dear 
friends,  are  also  of  the  number  of  those  who  have  much  light. 
Are  we  also  among  those  who  have  much  faith  ?  Ah  I  if  any 
of  you  complain  of  a  want  of  resources,  or  of  evidence  sufficient 
for  belief,  it  will  not  be  a  Peter  or  a  Paul  alone  who  will  rise  up 
at  the  last  day  to  testify  against  you,  but  there  will  also  appear 
this  woman  of  Canaan.  You  cannot  believe,  because  you  will 
not ;  and  that  will  be  your  condemnation. 

The  conduct  of  the  Lord  in  the  case  of  the  woman  of  Canaan, 
is  consistent  with  His  manner  of  acting  towards  Gentiles  in 
general,  and  with  the  particular  motives  for  His  mercy  in  this 
instance. 

Jesus  had  come  to  the  Gentiles,  in  the  sense  that  His  doctrine 
and  His  reign  were  to  extend  to  all  the  nations.  But  He  had 
come  solely  to  the  Jews,  in  the  sense  that  His  personal  ministry 
was  to  be  exercised  only  within  the  limits  of  Judea.     It  was 


182  ADOLPUE   MONOD. 

reserved  for  His  disciples  to  pass  beyond  these  limits,  and  this 
they  were  to  do  only  after  He  should  have  left  the  earth.  Hence 
a  double  point  of  view,  and,  as  it  were,  two  distinct  phases  in 
the  Lord's  conduct  towards  the  people  ;  so  distinct,  indeed,  as 
to  appear  inconsistent,  if  His  special  mission  is  not  kept  continu- 
ally in  view.  Faithful  to  His  special  mission,  Jesus  confined  Hio 
ministry  to  his  own  country,  and  commanded  His  disciples  to  do 
the  same,  as  long  as  He  was  with  them.  "  These  twelve  Jesus 
sent  forth,  and  commanded  them,  saying,  Go  not  into  the  way 
of  the  Gentiles,  and  into  any  city  of  the  Samaritans  enter  ye 
not."  Meanwhile,  from  time  to  time,  He  bestowed,  in  passing, 
the  gifts  of  His  grace  upon  Gentiles  who  fell  in  his  way,  and 
whom  faith  united  to  the  people  of  God  ;  and  thus  He  indicated 
what  He  would  do  at  some  future  day,  and  corrected  mildly  the 
prejudices  of  His  disciples,  making  them  familiar,  by  degrees, 
with  the  doctrine,  so  incredible  to  them,  the  calling  of  the  Gen- 
tiles :  "  And  I  say  unto  you,  that  many  shall  come  from  the  east 
and  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

But  are  these  considerations  sufficient  to  explain  the  attitude 
of  the  Lord  in  regard  to  the  woman  of  Canaan  ?  Did  He  not 
treat  her  with  a  severity,  an  apparent  harshness  which  He  exhib- 
ited neither  towards  the  Centurion,  nor  towards  Zaccheus,  nor 
towards  any  of  those  who  had  recourse  to  Him  ?  And  does  He 
not  seem,  in  her  case,  to  have  divested  Himself  of  that  gentle- 
ness and  of  that  inexhaustible  patience  which  formed  the  basis 
of  His  character  ?  Ah  I  observe  more  closely,  observe  especially 
what  St.  James  calls  "  the  end  of  the  Lord,"  and  you  will 
judge  otherwise.  Jesus  assumes  this  inflexible  air  only  to  make 
His  mercy  more  striking  ;  while  at  the  same  time  the  blessing 
which  He  accorded  to  the  woman  of  Canaan,  was  the  more  pre- 
cious, and  salutary,  as  it  was  more  painfully  bought  and  longer 
expected.  Let  us  not  forget  that  He  who  speaks  here,  is  not  a 
man,  but  the  Lord.  He  reads  the  heart,  nay.  He  operates 
therein  according  to  his  good  pleasure.     Fear  not  that  he  will 


THE   OMNIPOTENCE   OF   FAITII.  1S3 

tempt  bis  poor  servant  beyond  what  can  be  borne  ;  while  he 
tries  him,  he  strengthens  him,  and  will,  in  the  end,  give  him  "  an 
issue  "  w^orthy  of  his  fideUty.  Besides,  lie  knows  with  whom  he 
has  to  do,  and  lie  has  different  ways  for  souls  differently  dis- 
posed. To  the  feeble  lie  makes  advances,  and  accommodates 
Himself  to  their  infirmities  ;  the  strong,  it  pleases  Uim  to  make  to 
wait,  to  withdraw  from,  to  provoke  to  holy  combat,  in  order  to 
exercise  their  courage,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  display  before 
the  eyes  of  men  and  angels  the  beautiful  spectacle  of  their  vic- 
tory. Thus  He  strengthened  the  faith  of  the  woman  of  Canaan, 
while  he  instructed  His  disciples  so  much  the  more,  as  he  had, 
at  first,  appeared  to  adopt  their  prejudices.  Doubt  it  not ;  it  is 
for  choice  souls,  for  beloved  children,  that  He  reserves  these 
extraordinary  trials.  *'  What  coldness  in  His  language  !"  you  say; 
yes,  but  what  love  in  His  heart  ! 

With  this  explanation,  let  us  now  see  how  the  woman  of 
Canaan  struggles  with  the  Lord,  pursues  Him,  if  we  may  be  per- 
mitted to  speak  thus,  from  retreat  to  retreat,  and  finishes  by 
obliging  Him  to  say  :  "Be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt." 

Jesus  often  sought  retirement,  and  for  different  reasons. 
Sometimes  it  was  for  the  sake  of  allowing  His  body  repose  ; 
sometimes  from  reasons  of  prudence,  when  desirous  of  avoiding  the 
hatred  of  His  enemies  ;  sometimes  from  humility,  in  order  to  escape 
the  applause  of  the  multitudes ;  sometimes  from  the  pious  wish 
to  apply  himself  to  secret  prayer..  But,  at  this  time.  His  reason 
for  retirement  was  a  special  one,  and  closely  connected  with  our 
narrative  :  He  was  approaching  a  country  of  the  Gentiles,  where 
His  ministry  must  not  be  carried.  Saint  Mark  represents  Him 
as  taking  means  to  conceal  himself:  "And  He  entered  into  a 
house,  and  would  have  no  man  know  it  ;  but,"  adds  the  Evan- 
gelist, "  He  could  not  be  hid  ;"  and  why  ?  Because  the  woman 
of  Canaan  would  not  permit  Him, 

This  pious  woman  who  ardently  desired  to  see  Jesus,  this 
sorrowing  mother,  who  expected  her  daughter  to  be  healed  ojily 
through  the   Lord's  mercy,   kept  her  ear  continually  open   to 


184:  ADOLPHE    MONOD. 

everything  that  she  beard  of  Him.  While  He  is  yet  at  a  great 
distance,  she  receives  eagerly  the  first  noise  of  His  approach, 
and  no  sooner  is  He  upon  the  frontier  of  her  country,  than  she 
leaves  her  beloved  daughter,  and  flieis  to  seek  Him.  But  how 
many  obstacles  does  she  encounter  !  Jceus  is  not  advancing  to 
meet  her  ;  it  is  she  who  must  go  out  to  stop  Him.  She  is  not 
sustained  by  a  multitude  bringing  sick  persons  to  the  Lord  ;  she 
is  going  alone  in  search  of  Him.  Nor  has  He  called  her  to 
Him,  as  He  did  others,  saying  :  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden."  He  avoids  her  looks.  She  must 
force  His  door  ;.  must  pursue  Him  into  a  house  where  He  had 
entered  expressly  to  be  concealed,  and  where  He  is  surrounded 
by  His  disciples,  by  Jews  filled  with  the  pride  and  prejudices  of 
their  nation,  and,  upon  this  occasion  so  much  the  more  disposed 
to  drive  away  a  poor  Gentile,  as  the  fidelity  which  they  owed 
to  their  Master  seemed  to  make  it  a  duty.  Behold  more  than 
enough  to  discourage  an  ordinary  soul.  The  moment  is  not 
auspicious  ;  "  I  shall  not  be  permitted  to  enter  ;  my  presence  will 
be  unwelcome  ;  I  shall  be  badly  received  ;  self-respect  ought  to 
restrain  me."  But  the  woman  of  Canaan  did  not  make  these 
reflections,  or  did  not  dwell  upon  them.  An  ardent  desire 
inspired  by  maternal  tenderness,  sustained  by  an  unshaken 
confidence  in  the  word  and  promises  of  the  Lord,  renders  her 
capable  of  surmounting  everything.  The  occasion  seems  to  her 
propitious,  the  only  one,  perhaps  :  her  daughter  may  die  ;  Jesus 
may  return  into  Judea  ;  to-morrow,  perhaps,  may  be  too  late. 
She  sets  out ;  she  advances  ;  she  overcomes  all  difiiculties.  How  ? 
the  Gospel  narrative  does  not  tell  us  ;  but  here  she  is  at  the 
feet  of  the  Saviour  olFering  her  petition  :  "Have  mercy  upon 
me,  0  Lord,  thou  son  of  David,  my  daughter  is  grievously  vexed 
with  a  devil." 

Now  if  the  Lord  was  unable  to  conceal  Himself,  understand 
that  it  was  because  He  did  not  in  reality  wish  to  do  it.  He 
could  not  escape  the  faith  of  the  woman  of  Canaan,  in  the  same 
way  that  He  could  not  grant  anything  to  the  incredulity  of  the 


THE   OMNIPOTENCE   OF   FAITH.  185 

Nazarenes,  concerning  wliicli  Saint  Mark  says  :  "  And  He  could 
then  do  no  migbty  work,  save  that  He  laid  His  hands  upon  a 
few  sick  folks,  and  healed  them  ;  and  He  marvelled  because  of 
their  unbelief."  It  is  voluntarily,  and  without  prejudice  to  His 
sovereign  power,  that  the  Lord  is  overcome,  or  rather  that  He 
suffers  himself  to  be  overcome,  in  the  contest  into  which  He 
enters  with  us  ;  whether  He  comes  to  us,  and  the  blessings  which 
He  may  bring  be  turned  away  by  our  unbelief,  or  whether 
He  avoids  us,  and  the  blessing  which  He  may  refuse  be 
torn  from  Him  by  our  faith.  It  is  He  himself  who  has  estab- 
lished this  double  rule,  Ihat  unbelief  should  receive  nothing,  and 
that  faith  shall  obtain  all  things. 

Behold,  then,  the  first  victory  of  the  woman  of  Canaan  :  slie 
triumphs  over  the  precautions  of  Jesus.  And  do  you,  my  dear 
brethren,  do  you  know,  as  she  did,  how  to  find  the  Saviour 
when  He  is  concealed,  and  how  to  open  a  passage  to  Him  upon 
those  gloomy  occasions,  when  obstacles  of  every  kind  accumulate 
upon  your  pathway  ?  Or  would  you  be  of  those  sluggards  who, 
not  satisfied  with  being  arrested  by  real  difficulties,  and  with 
"  not  ploughing  by  reason  of  the  cold,"  yield  to  imaginations, 
and  refuse  to  go  out  for  fear  of  "  the  lion  that  is  in  the  street." 
Go,  learn  what  these  words  mean  :  ^'  He  that  observeth  the 
wind  shall  not  sow  ;  and  he  that  regardeth  the  clouds  shall  not 
reap." 

Once  in  the  presence  of  Jesus,  the  woman  of  Canaan  is  tran- 
quil. He  knows  what  efforts  she  has  made  in  order  to  reach 
him.  How  can  he  send  her  away  empty  ?  His  tenderness  is  well 
known.  A  mother  who  prays  for  her  daughter,  ought  to  be  par- 
ticularly entitled  to  it  ;  especially  when  she  asks  to  see  that 
daughter  delivered  from  a  demon  that  afflicts  her  soul  more  than 
her  body  ;  doubtless  the  deliverance  will  be  effected.  .  .  .  Poor 
Canaanite  !  the  obstacles  which  thou  hast  overcome,  are  small 
in  comparison  with  those  which  thou  art  destined  to  encounter  ; 
the  fornier  were  only  in  the  external  circumstances  that  hindered 
thee  from  approaching  Jesus  ;  now  thou  art  about  to  meet  with 


186  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

obstacles  in  Jesus  himself.  What  wilt  thou  do  when  He  upon 
whom  thou  hast  relied  for  deliverance  from  trial,  shall  himself 
study  to  try  thee  ?  Jesus  "  answered  her  not  a  word."  This 
woman  who  has  forced  herself  upon  him  is  a  Gentile  ;  He  suffers 
her  to  cry  to  him  without  giving  to  her  a  reply. 

This  silence  ! — Ah,  what  contempt,  what  bitterness  for  this 
poor  mother  !  If,  with  a  denial  to  her  prayer,  she  had  received 
one  word  of  consolation,  one  word  of  pity  :  but  to  be  gazed 
upon  in  utter  silence  !  A  father  solicited  by  a  child,  a  master 
besought  by  a  servant,  even  though  he  may  not  wish  to  gratify, 
will,  at  least,  reply.  The  poorest  reception  that  one  can  give 
to  the  prayers  of  the  meanest  of  men  is  a  word  in  reply.  "  Jesus 
answered  the  Centurion.  He  answered  the  nobleman  of  Caper- 
naum. He  aswered  the  leper.  He  answers  when  he  grants  ;  He 
answers  even  when  he  refuses.  He  answers  all  others  ;  I  am  the 
only  one  to  whom  he  answers  nothing  ;  the  only  one  whom  he 
suffers  to  cry  without  some  token  of  compassion."  Is  this  then 
the  Messiah,  who  **  with  righteousness  shall  judge  the  poor  ;" 
who  shall  not  break  a  bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the  smoking  flax, 
who  says  to  the  poor  sinner  :  "  Call  upon  Me  in  the  day  of 
trouble  :  I  will  deliver  thee,  and  thou  shalt  glorify  Me." 

But  if  these  doubts  knock  at  the  heart  of  the  woman  of 
Canaan,  they  find  no  entrance  there.  She  walks  by  faith  and 
not  by  sight.  This  silence  surprises  her,  it  is  inexphcable  to  her, 
but  it  shakes  not  her  faith.  Jesus  may  have  motives  for  this 
silence  which  she  knows  not.  Perhaps  he  wishes  to  exercise  her 
patience.  Perhaps  he  wishes  to  give  a  lesson  to  his  disciples. 
Perhaps  he  wishes  something  else.  Whatever  it  may  be,  he  is 
the  Son  of  David,  the  promised  Messiah,  the  Lord.  Whatever 
it  may  be,  "he  is  good  to  all,  and  his  tender  mercies  are  over 
all  his  works."  The  woman  of  Canaan  relies  upon  his  promises, 
as  upon  a  rock  which  cannot  fail  her.  Let  Him  do  whatever 
may  please  Him,  she  is  resolved  never  to  doubt  His  word.  He  is 
silent,  but  it  is  only  for  a  season.  Far  from  being  silent  in  her 
turn,  she  will  cry  "so  much  the  more."     She  will   constrain 


THE    OMNirOTENCE   OF   FAITIT.  187 

him  to  speak.     She    will   give   him   no   peace   until   slie    shall 
have  obtained  a  reply. 

This  reply  she  finally  obtains  in  an  unexpected  manner. 
The  disciples  coming  between  her  and  their  Master,  exclaim  : 
"Send  her  oway,  for  she  crieth  after  us."  Send  her  away; 
but  how  ?  Shall  it  bo  by  granting  her  urgent  request,  or  by 
driving  her  off  as  a  miserable  Gentile  ?  Perhaps  the  disciple: 
made  use  designedly  of  an  equivocal  expression  :  they  dared  not 
suggest  to  the  Lord  what  He  ought  to  do  ;  but  in  one  way  or 
another,  either  by  granting  or  refusing  what  she  wished,  they 
desired  to  be  rid  of  her.  But  the  reason  which  they  give,  "  for 
she  crieth  after  us,"  lends  a  dark  tone  to  the  sentiment  which 
dictated  their  intervention  :  it  shows  that  what  touched  them 
most  was  the  annoyance  which  the  cries  of  this  woman  caused  to 
Jesus  and  to  themselves.  So  little  did  they  understand  the 
heart  of  their  Master,  that  they  believed  Him  to  be  weary  of 
the  prayers  of  the  afflicted,  as  did  those  servants  of  Jairus  who 
came  to  him  saying  :  "  Thy  daughter  is  dead  ;  trouble  not  the 
Master."  It  was  because  they  judged  Jesus  by  themselves. 
Oh,  unworthy  sentiment  !  to  be  less  touched  by  the  anguish  and 
supplications  of  a  mother  who  sees  her  daughter  in  the  power  of 
a  demon,  than  by  the  trouble  and  embarrassment  that  she  gives  I 
Let  us  beware.  Christians  ;  even  we,  the  servants  of  God,  let  us 
beware,  and  not  hasten  to  cast  a  stone  at  the  disciples.  Has 
nothing  similar  ever  happened  to  us  ?  When  some  one  has 
spread  before  us  the  anguish  of  his  heart,  has  spoken  to  us,  per- 
haps, of  his  sins  and  of  the  salvation  of  his  soul,  has  it  never 
happened  that  we  have  listened  with  distraction,  and  been  less 
touched  by  his  sufferings  than  fatigued  by  the  length  of  his 
story  ?  He  has  found  us,  perhaps,  preoccupied  with  some  un- 
important care,  some  secondary  interest,  some  pleasure,  some  re- 
past that  awaited  us.  Oh,  selfish  hearts,  more  troubled  by 
a  small  contrariety  of  our  own,  than  by  the  bitter  grief  of 
others  I 

But  these  reflections  are  ours  ;  the  woman  of  Canaan  did  not 


188  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

make  them.  Of  what  importance  to  her  are  the  motives  of  the 
disciples,  or  even  their  contempt,  provided  their  impatience 
break  the  silence  of  Jesns  ?  It  is  not  of  them  that  she  is  tliink- 
ing,  it  is  of  their  Master.  She  has  eyes  and  ears  for  him  alone. 
Now  sec,  his  mouth  is  opening — that  mouth,  one  word  from 
which  can  heal  her  daughter,  as  it  has  healed  so  many  sick,  con- 
soled so  many  afflicted,  raised  to  life  so  many  dead  ;  what  more 
does  she  need  ?  It  is  enough  that  she  has  triumphed  over  his 
silence,  and  constrained  him  to  speak. 

Recall,  my  dear  friends,  those  gloomy  times  when  the  Lord 
has  tried  you  by  His  silence  ;  when  He  has  suffered  you  to  cry  to 
Him  without  giving  any  answer  or  any  ''  token  of  good  ;  when 
you  have  in  vain  said  to  Him  :  "  Teach  me  thy  paths,  for  Thou 
art  the  God  of  my  salvation  ;"  when  you  have  sought,  without 
avail,  in  His  Word  for  some  light  to  your  feet  ;  when,  in  fine, 
you  have  found,  notwithstanding  all  your  efforts,  only  a  God 
without  a  voice  and  a  heaven  of  brass.  What  have  you  done, 
then  ?  Have  you,  like  the  woman  of  Canaan,  besieged  the 
throne  of  grace  until  you  obtained  a  response  ? 

"  Go  in  peace,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole  ;  let  it  be  unto 
thee  even  as  thou  wilt :  thy  daughter  is  healed."  These  are  the 
words  that  the  woman  of  Canaan  expected  from  Jesus.  But, 
instead  of  them,  what  does  He  say  to  her,  or  rather,  what  does 
He  say  to  His  disciples,  for  it  is  to  them  rather  than  to  her  that 
He  addresses  His  reply  ?  "  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost 
sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel  ;"  or,  according  to  a  more  literal 
translation,  "  I  am  not  sent  but  among  the  lost  sheep  of  the 
house  of  Israel." 

We  have  seen  that  the  mission  of  Jesus  was,  in  one  sense,  to 
the  Jews  alone,  and,  in  another  sense,  to  all  nations.  He  was 
sent  only  among  the  Jews,  and  His  personal  ministry  was  not  to 
extend  beyond  their  borders  ;  but  He  was  sent  for  all  men,  and 
His  salvation  was,  finally,  to  be  made  known  throughout  the 
world  ;  a  fact  which  He  was  making  known  by  conferring 
blessings  upon  a  small  number   of  Gentiles,  who  waited  not 


THE   OMNIPOTENCE   OF   FAITH.  189 

to  receive  them  until  the  Gospel  should  have  penetrated  iuto 
their  country.  Had  lie  said  this  to  the  woman  of  Canaan,  she 
would  have  been  relieved  of  her  anxiety.  But  of  these  two 
phases  of  the  question  He  showed  her  only  that  which  could  dis- 
courage her,  and  that,  even,  under  the  severest  aspect.  He  had 
said  unto  His  disciples,  in  sending  them  to  preach  the  Gospel  : 
"  Go  not  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles,  but  go  rather  to  the  lost 
sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel ;"  but  to  her  He  said,  in  terras  more 
absolute  and  more  inflexible  :  "  I  am  not  sent,  but  among  the 
lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel." 

If  the  silence  of  Jesus  had  appeared  cruel  to  the  woman  of 
Canaan,  these  words  must  have  appeared  to  her  more  cruel  still. 
His  silence  had,  at  least,  left  her  hope  ;  His  words  seem  to  take 
it  from  her.  Jesus  cannot  grant  to  her  what  she  asks,  without, 
in  some  sort,  departing  from  His  mission.  He  is  sent  only 
among  the  Jews,  and  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Gentiles.  The 
very  law  of  His  ministry,  and  the  principles  of  the  kingdom 
which  He  has  come  to  establish,  exclude  the  woman  of  Canaan 
from  His  benefits.  He  is  the  Saviour,  but  of  the  Jews  ;  there  is 
deliverance  in  Him,  but  it  is  not  for  her. 

We,  it  is  true,  comparing  our  text  with  another,  and  discern- 
ing "  the  times  and  the  seasons,"  can  explain  the  reply  of  the 
Saviour  in  such  a  way  as  to  leave,  still,  an  open  door  to  the 
Gentiles.  But  the  woman  of  Canaan  possessed  not  our  light 
and  our  theology  ;  and  the  word  of  the  Saviour,  that  word 
which  she  had  so  ardently  desired,  had  decided  against  her. 
What  could  be  done  then,  and  what  could  be  resorted  to  in  such 
a  trial  ?  If  any  other  than  Jesus  had  forbidden  her  to  hope,  she 
would  have  appealed  to  Jesus  ;  but  from  Jesus  himself,  to  whom 
could  she  appeal  ?  The  greater  her  confidence  in  Him,  the 
greater  is  her  reason  for  losing  courage.  It  is  He  who  turns 
against  her,  it  is  He  who  studies  to  torment  her,  it  is  He  who 
constrains  her,  apparently,  in  despair  of  her  cause,  to  cry  out  : 
"Mine  affliction  increaseth.  Thou  huntcst  me  as  a  fierce  lion  ; 
and  again  thou  showest  thyself  marvellous  upon  me."     But,  fear 


190  ADOLPHE   MONOD. 

not  for  the  woman  of  Canaan.  If  she  has  not  our  theology,  she 
has  what  is  better  :  she  has  a  faith  that  we  possess  not,  and  this 
faith  will  enable  her  to  tnumph  over  the  words  of  Jesus. 

Remember  David  at  .Nob.  He  reaches  the  house  oi  God, 
pressed  by  hunger,  and  finds  no  other  bread  than  that  which 
was  consecrated  to  the  Almighty.  Concerning  this  bread  it  was 
written  :  "  And  it  shall  be  Aaron's  and  his  sons'  ;  and  they  shall 
eat  it  in  the  holy  place  :  for  it  is  most  holy  unto  him  of  the  offer- 
ings of  the  Lord  made  by  fire  by  a  perpetual  statute."  And  the 
word  of  God  permitted  neither  David  nor  his  men  to  touch  it. 
But  David,  by  his  faith,  anticipates  the  liberty  of  Gospel  times  : 
this  faith  raises  him  above  all  that  is  written  ;  the  Holy  Spirit 
causes  him  to  understand  that  the  Levitical  law  is  but  a  tran- 
sient type  ;  he  feels  the  approval  of  God,  in  acting  agaiast  the 
letter  of  the  commandment,  and  eats  in  peace  the  bread  sacred 
to  the  priests.  Our  woman  of  Canaan  is  sustained  by  a  similar 
feeling.  Her  faith  anticipates  the  time  set  for  the  calling  of  the 
Gentiles,  and  places  her  beyond  the  reach  of  the  words  just 
uttered  by  the  Lord.  She  knows  not  what  to  say  in  answer  to 
these  words,  but  she  feels  in  the  bottom  of  her  soul  something 
that  outweighs  them.  It  is  in  vain  to  tell  her  :  This  is  not  for 
thee.  In  vain,  even,  may  the  Lord  himself  tell  it  to  her  ;  she 
will  never  believe  herself  excluded  from  grace.  She  feels  that 
there  is  here  something  mysterious  that  will  be  explained  to 
her,  something  apparently  contradictory  that  will,  in  good  sea- 
son, be  made  clear  to  her  ;  everything  is  possible  to  the  Lord, 
except  to  abandon  a  soul  that  waits  upon  Him.  And  she  perse- 
veres, and  she  stoops  more  humbly,  and  she  prays  more  earnestly, 
and  she  approaches  nearer  to  that  Saviour  who  attempts  to 
escape  her,  and  she  prostrates  herself  before  Him  and  cries  out  : 
"  Lord  have  mercy  on  me."  Sent  to  me,  or  not,  here  Thou  art, 
oh  I  Saviour  of  the  unfortunate  1  Called,  or  not,  here  am  I,  a 
wretched  mother  I  Thou  must  hear  me.  Thou  must  cure  my 
daughter,  Thou  must  drive  away  this  demon  ;  I  will  not  let  Thet 
go,  until  Thou  hast  delivered  me  ! 


THE   OMNIPOTENCE   OF   FAITH.  191 

My  brethren,  the  word  of  God  which  was  given  to  us  for  our 
eternal  consolation,  seems  sometimes  to  turn  itself  against  us — 
God  permitting  Satan  to  tem.pt  us  as  he  tempted  Jesus  in  the 
desert.  We  find  in  this  word  conditions  which  do  not  seem  to 
be  fulfilled,  signs  of  conversion  which  we  do  not  seem  to  possess, 
promises  to  which  we  believe  ourselves  strangers,  threats  which 
fill  us  with  dismay.  In  moments  like  these,  there  is  peace  for  us 
only  in  that  faith  which  here  sustains  the  woman  of  Canaan,  It 
is  not  a  dogmatic  deduction,  it  is  not  the  anxious  discussion  of 
the  meaning  and  limits  of  a  condition  or  of  a  promise  that  can 
deliver  us  ;  we  must  rise  higher.  We  must  go  directly  to  the 
Saviour.  We  must  have  recourse  to  that  witness  which  the 
Spirit  of  God  renders  to  our  spirit :  Whatever  may  befall  me, 
He  is  "  my  rock  " — my  heart  hath  told  me  to  "  seek  thy  face  " — 
"  I  know  whom  I  have  believed  " — "  Thou  art  mine,  and  I  am 
Thine." 

The  whole  strength  of  the  woman  of  Canaan  is  in  that  confidence 
with  which  the  love  of  the  Saviour  inspires  her.  It  is  in  the 
heart  of  Jesus  that  she  seeks  a  secret  protection  both  against 
His  silence  and  His  word.  But  what  will  become  of  her,  if 
even  this  protection,  if  this  last  refuge  should  fail  her,  and  if  she 
should  find  in  the  heart  of  Jesus  nothing  but  severity  and 
disdain  ?  What  did  I  say,  0  my  Saviour  ?  Severity  and 
disdain  in  Thee,  the  "  meek  and  lowly  in  heart  ?"  Ah,  never 
didst  thou  so  much  love  her  !  Thou  triest  her,  because  thou 
lovest  her  :  but  because  thou  art  faithful,  thou  wilt  not  try  her 
beyond  her  strength,  that  strength  which  thou  measurest  exactly, 
nay,  which  thou  thyself  givest  to  her  ;  for,  by  what  strength  can 
one  struggle  against  the  Lord,  except  by  the  strength  that 
cometh  from  the  Lord  ? 

But  this  faithful  love  of  Jesus  is,  for  a  moment,  concealed 
under  appearances  of  severity  and  disdain  ;  and  how  can  we 
describe  what  passes  in  the  heart  of  t]^e  poor  woman  of  Canaan, 
when  her  tender,  her  ardent  prayer,  "  Lord  help  me,"  receives 
this  reply  :  "  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's  bread,  and 


192  ADOLPHE  MONOD. 

to  cast  it  to  dogs  ?"  You  understand  what  He  means  :  the 
children  are  tlie  Jews  ;  the  dogs  are  the  Gentiles,  of  whom  this 
Canaanite  is  one.  However  cruel  this  expression  may  be  in  our 
language,  it  was  still  more  so  in  that  of  the  Jews  ;  for  dogs 
never  appear  in  Holy  Writ  except  under  the  most  repulsive 
circumstances  ;  to  the  Jew,  and,  in  general,  to  all  the  nations 
of  the  East,  the  dog  was  an  unclean  animal,  the  type  of  profane 
and  persecuting  impiety,  as  the  swine,  with  which  he  was 
associated,  was  the  type  of  an  inordinate  and  sensual  impiety. 

Truly,  tliis  temptation  was  greater  than  the  others  to  which 
the  woman  of  Canaan  was  subjected.  Saint  Mark  felt  it  so 
strongly,  that  it  is  the  only  one  of  w^hich  he  makes  mention  in 
his  narrative,  and,  passing  by  the  silence  and  the  first  reply  of 
the  Saviour,  he  stops  only  at  the  reproachful  comparison  made 
between  the  poor  supplicant  and  the  unclean  dogs.  Behold, 
then,  Jesus  adopting,  over-acting,  even,  the  contempt  shown 
for  the  Gentiles  in  the  language  and  prejudices  of  His  people. 
Behold,  not  simply  the  spirit  of  the  woman  of  Canaan  troubled, 
but  her  heart  wounded,  bruised,  overwhelmed  ;  I  say  her  heart, 
for  it  would  be  too  little  to  say  her  self-love.  Her  confidence  is 
responded  to  by  coldness,  her  resignation  by  indifference,  and 
her  love  by  contempt.  Ah !  here  she  might  have  been  overcome, 
if  it  had  been  possible  to  overcome  her. 

But  she  cannot  be  overcome,  because  she  will  not  doubt.  It 
is  the  Lord,  let  Him  do  what  seemeth  good  in  His  sight ;  though 
He  slay  her,  yet  will  she  trust  in  Him.  Far  from  suffering 
herself  to  be  shaken,  she  is  scarcely  troubled.  She  triumphs 
over  the  contempt  of  Jesus.  She  preserves  all  her  freedom  of  soul, 
and  with  a  presence  of  mind  that  w^e  should  admire,  if  our  atten- 
tion was  not  absorbed  by  a  spectacle  far  more  beautiful,  that  of 
her  faith,  she  arms  herself  against  the  Lord  with  the  very 
weapon  with  which  He  has  just  pierced  her  :  she  "judges  Him 
out  of  His  own  mouth."  This  humiliating  comparison,  which, 
in  our  opinion,  would  have  been  so  revolting  to  her  heart,  she 
adopts  without  murmur,  and  from  it  draAvs  a  new  argument  to 


TUE   OMNirOTENCE    OF   FAITII.  103 

overcome  the;  Lord's  resistance  ;  so  much  docs  she  forget  herself 
in  her  anxiety  to  save  her  daughter,  and  to  gain  the  favor  of 
Jesus.  "  Truly,  Lord,  I  am  satisfied  with  what  Thou  say  est,  I  am, 
in  comjiarison  with  Thy  people,  only  what  a  dog  is  in  comparison 
with  a  child.  But  even  then  I  am  entitled  to  the  portion  of  a 
dog.  The  dogs  eat  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  their  master's 
table  ;  I  ask  for  nothing  more."  "  A  single  crumb  of  that  bread 
with  which  Thou  satisfiest  the  desires  of  Thy  chosen  people,  a 
single  word,  a  single  look,  and  my  daughter  shall  be  healed  !" 

It  is  done,  0  Canaanite  !  The  victory  is  thine  ;  thy  child 
is  healed.  "  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her  :  0  wo- 
man, great  is  thy  faith  ;  be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt." 
Now  the  tables  are  turned  :  it  is  man  who  triumjihs,  and  the 
Lord  who  yields  :  it  is  the  Creator  of  the  heavens  and  of  the 
earth  who  says  to  the  poor  sinful  creature  :  "  Thy  will  be  done." 
Such  is  the  power  of  faith.  And  what  is  it  that  has  decided 
this  astonishing  victory  ?  It  is  this  simple  expression  of  faith 
and  humility  :  "  The  dogs  eat  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  their 
master's  table."  These  are  the  decisive  words,  as  we  find  in  the 
narrative  given  by  Saint  Mark,  when  the  Saviour  says  :  "For 
this  saying,  go  thy  way  ;  the  devil  is  gone  out  of  thy  daugh- 
ter." For  this  saying  !  We  have  often  admired  the  efficacy 
of  the  words  of  God  ;  it  is  now  time  to  admire  the  efficacy  of 
the  words  of  man.  The  words  of  the  woman  of  Canaan  open 
the  heavens,  triumph  over  the  Lord,  drive  away  the  devil,  and 
accomplish  whatever  she  wishes.  "  As  the  Lord  God  of  Israel 
liveth,  before  whom  I  stand,"  said  Elijah,  "there  shall  not  be 
dew  nor  rain  these  years,  but  according  to  my  word."  It  was 
because  this  word  was  the  word  of  faith.  Faith  gives  us  some 
mysterious  share  in  the  omnipotence  of  God  himself.  If  it  is 
written  ;  "  V/ith  God,  all  things  are  possible,"  it  is  also  wi'itten  : 
"  All  things  are  possible  to  him  that  belie veth."  Fear  not  that 
pride  may  be  engendered  by  this  glorious  power  ;  it  is  exercised 
only  in  humility  ;  it  escapes  when  the  heart  is  inflated  ;  the  wo- 
man of  Canaan  is  all-powerful  at  the  moment  when  she  abases 

9 


-1  Qj.  ADOLPnE   MONOD. 

herself  most  profoundly.     Ob,  wonder  of  wonders  I     Oh,  wisdom 
•      mprehenLe  !     Mystery   unfathomable  !      L.ght    d>vme 
now  happy  are  those  meek  ones  whose  expectation  rs  n 
Lord  their  God  1     "  They  shall  inhent  the  earth,"  they     shall 
iud"-e  an-^els,"  they  "  shall  reign  on  the  earth. 
'  My  breAr  u,  when  the  heart  of  Jesus  shall  seem  to  fad  you  ; 
whlJ  your  pra  -ers  even  shall  serve  only  to  inercase  your  trouble 
Ih    ,  ^r  tunr  for  the  most  fervent  supplications,  and   mos 
Lde'r  conadeuce,  you  shall  seem  to  find  his  ear  closed>s  hear 
inaccessible,  and  his  hand  repelling  you,  remembe.  then    oU 
remember    he  words  that  saved  the  woman  of  Canaan!    Be- 
~f  entertaining  the  thought  that  the  Saviour  can  abandon 
you     It  is  written  :  "For  a  small  moment  have  I  foi.aken 
[hee  •  but  with  great  mercies  will  I  gather  thee."     Humb  e  yom- 
sS  beneath  hi^  powerful  arm.     Present  to  him  tnat  "bro  en 
aid  contrite  heart,"  to  which  he  hath  made  the  promise;  and 
fl    he  midst  of  your  distress,  and  even  while  he  ^  refusing 
you,  lift  up  a  new  cry,  a  more  earnest  prayer  which  He  canno 
vesik  and  which  shall  draw  from  Him  this  reply  :    ^Foi  this 
savin"-  go  thy  way  ;  be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt 

'S:  combat,  like  victory.     The  more  the  woman  of  Canaan 
had  suffered  and  resisted,  the  more  precious  to  her  --^  >«  ^- 
liveranee,  and  the  more  comforted  was  her  faith.     Oh,  with 
what  eye   beheld  she  her  daughter  snatched  from  the  donun>.n 
of  the  devil  1     Then,  how  well  did  she  understand  that  he  Loid 
had  much  tried  her  because  he  had  much  loved  her       Must 
there  not  have  been  in  the  remembrance  alone,  of  this  toucnmg 
and  terrible  scene,  enough  to  fortify  her  until  the  end,  ag^ms 
the  -riefs  of  life  ?    What  this  remembrance  was  for  her,  kt  her 
stor;  be  for  you.    The  miracle  of  the  Saviour  was  wrought  for 
her  but  it  was  recorded  for  you.     If  the  Lord  tries  you,  be 
ass;red  that  He  loves  you.    If  for  you  He  has  appointed  specia 
trials,  be  assured  that  in  his  heart  He  has  kept  for  you  a  special 
place.     A  soul  sorely  bruised  is  a  soul  elect.     Let  the  experience 
of  the  woman  of  Canaan  instruct  and  strengthen  you.     Like 


THE   OMNirOTENCE   OP  FAITH.  JOS 

her,  give  glory  to  the  Lord,  and  never  doubt  His  goodnes?     As 
long  as  you  sliall  bo  able  to  say,  from  the  bottom  of  your  heart  • 
Whatever  may  befall  me  the  Lord  is  good,  you  will  be  invineible' 
But  the  experience  of  the  woman  of  Canaan  will  strengthen 
you  only  .if  you  share  her  faith.     If  her  support  had  been  de- 
rived only  from  the  experience  of  those  afflicted  persons  whom 
the  Lord  had  delivered  before  her,  she  would  never  have  re- 
mained firm  against  temptation.     To  the  experience  of  his  kind- 
ness towards  them,  she  would  have  opposed  the  experience  of  his 
apparent  severity  towards  herself,  and  she  would  have  yielded 
It  always  seems  to  us  that  the  experience  of  others  does  not  cor- 
respond exactly  with  our  own.     That  which  confirmed  the  wo- 
man of  Canaan,  that  which  made  her  conquer,  was  a  resolution 
to  rely  upon  the  Lord  and  upon  His  word,  whatever  might  be  the 
.    consequence ;  It  was  an  unwillingness  to  see  anything  to  hear 
anything  opposed  to  her  faith.     Thus  was  she  rendered  ■  capable 
of  resisting,  uot  only  this  trial  or  that,  but  all  the  trials  that 
might  come  upon  her.     It  was  when  everything  had  been  tried 
exhausted,  aud  when  she  had  been  found  not  only  uavanquished' 
but  invincible,  it  was  then  that  the  Lord  said  to  her  •  "  0  wo- 
man, great  is  thy  faith."     Oh  !  if  she  had  lost  courage  before 
the  close  of  the  combat  1  if  she  had  abandoned  her  hope,  when 
there  was  but  one  step  more  to  take  I     Perhaps  you  are  at  this 
very  point.     One  more  step-one  more  effort-one  more  prayer 
and  you  will  be  saved.     Do  not  say :  It  is  a  year,  five  years' 
ten  years  that  I  have  been  praying  and  the  Lord  has  not  an- 
swered me;  but  say:  The  Lord  cannot  reject  me.     Do   not 
say  :  I  have  such  and  such  evidence  that  the  Lord  will  not 
answer  me  ;  but  say  :  The  Lord  cannot  refuse  me.     Arm  your- 
selves, my  brethren,  with  the  faith  of  the  woman  of  Canaan 
with  a  faith  that  excites  His  admiration.     Say  to  Him  with 
Jacob  :   "  I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me."     Lord 
Jesus,  who  eommandest  faith,  and  who  crownest  it,  thou  art  ho 
also  who  givest  it,  and  who,   having  given  it,  increasest  it. 
We  believe,  Lord,  help  thou  our  unbelief"     Lord  increase 
onr  faith  I    Amen 


FRED.  WILLIAM  KRUMMACHER,  D.D. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE.* 

Frederick  William  KRUMMAcnER  was  born  on  the  28tli  of  Janu- 
ary, 1797,  at  Meurs,  near  the  Lower  Ehhie,  Germany.  His  father  was 
Dr.'rrederickAdolphKrnmmacher,  Professor  of  Theology,  and  after- 
wards General  Superintendent  and  Court  Preacher ;  and  who  died 
while  pastor  at  Bremen.  lie  was  the  author  of  the  famous  "Parables," 
and  several  other  works. 

Frederick  William,  the  son,  was  converted  in  the  year  1819, 
ordained  as  assistant  minister  in  Frankfort  on  the  Maine,  and  first 
settled  as  pastor  at  Ruhrort.  His  education  was  at  Bernburg,  and 
HaUe,  and  Jena ;  and  he  attributes  his  conversion  to  some  peculiarly 
rich  Christian  experiences  with  which  he  came  in  contact,  in  certain 
humble  day-laborers,  who  had  read  and  been  enriched  by  the 
writings  of  Gerhard  Tersteegen.  , 

In  the  year  1823,  he  was  called  to  Barmen,  and  afterwards  to 
Elberfeld.  In  1847,  at  the  call  of  the  king  of  Prussia,  he  took  up  his 
residence  in  Berlin  (for  three  years  past  at  Potsdam,  near  Berlin), 
as  Court  preacher,  and  pastor  of  the  Court  and  Garrison  Church ; 
with  some  five  thousand  souls  under  his  charge.  He  says  "in  the 
days  in  my  youth  I  worked  in  a  blooming  vineyard"  (referring  to 
his  first  field  of  labor),  "but  now  I  am  trying  to  reclaim  a  wide, 
sandy  desert." 

The  published  writings  of  Dr.  Krummacher  are  very  voluminous, 
some  of  which  are  quite  a  number  of  volumes  of  sermons,  a  Refuta- 
tion of  Rationalism,  a  System  of  Christian  Doctrine,  Last  Days  of 
Elisha,  Elijah  the  Tishbite,  The  Martyr  Lamb,  and  The  Suffering 
Saviour.     These  last  named  works  have  been  widely  read  by  the 

*  The  essential  facts  as  to  Dr.  Krummacher'a  early  life,  official  Etations.  etc.,  are 
derived  from  a  letter  from  his  own  hand. 


200  FEED.    WM.    KRUMJirACIIEE.  • 

people  of  tliis  country,  and  have  rendered  his  name  honored  and 
beloved  hj  thousands  of  pious  souls  among  all  classes,  and  in  all 
parts  of  the  land. 

Dr.  Krummacher  is  tall  and  full  of  proportions,  light  hair  combed 
back  sleekly  over  his  ears,  blue  and  expressive  eyes,  peering  now,  in 
the  sere  of  "three  score  and  ten,"  through  a  pair  of  gold  spectacles, 
and  of  a  heavy,  lion-like  voice.  He  is  a  man  of  undoubted  piety,  and, 
considering  his  antecedents,  liberal  in  his  views  of  religious  toleration, 
has  great  influence  with  the  king,  and  is,  perhaps,  the  most  eloquent 
of  living  divines.  Some  of  his  sermons  arc  represented  to  be  like 
earthquakes ;  while,  at  another  time,  one  would  think,  from  the  exquis- 
ite beauty  of  his  sentences,  that  his  mind  was  a  picture-gallery,  or  a 
garden  of  sweets,  with  meandering  streams  and  endless  forms  of  life 
and  beauty. 

Some  of  Krummacher's  peculiarities  are  well  brought  out  in  a 
reminiscence  of  Dr.  Abel  Stevens.  "  When  I  told  him  the  other 
night,  at  a  tea-party,  the  number  of  some  of  the  editions  of  his 
'Elijah'  among  us,  and  that  it  was  read  in  our  log-cabins  in  Cali- 
fornia and  Oregon,  he  seemed  hardly  to  believe  me,  for  the  extent 
of  the  American  press  is  scarcely  known  in  Europe ;  and  when  I 
assured  him  that  if  he  would  come  to  IsTew  York,  we  could  place 
him  in  sections  of  the  city,  where,  for  whole  squares,  he  could  read 
German  'signs,'  and  hear  the  children  playing  in  German;  and  if 
he  liked  'lager-bier,'  drown  himself  in  an  ocean  of  it,  he  laughed 
as  you  might  suppose  a  lion  would,  were  it  the  habit  of  that  noble 
creature  to  laugh  at  all, — his  mighty  voice  ringing  into  the  adjacent 
apartments.  But  suppose  not  that  there  was  anything  peculiarly 
humorous  in  my  remarks,  or  uncommon  in  Krummacher's  uproarious 
outbursts.  It  is  the  '  vocal  style '  of  the  man.  What  the  watchman 
said  of  George  Whitefield,  can  be  said  of  tliis  great  German :  '  He 
preaches  like  a  lion.'  He  not  oyAj  preaches,  h\it  prays^  and  makes 
speeches  so,  and  even  '  says  grace '  at  the  table  in  the  same  mannei . 
He  introduced  our  public  dinner,  the  other  day,  with  a  'grace'  in 
German,  which  was  roared  out,  as  if  addressed  to  an  army  half  a 
mile  off." 

The  following  sermons  on  the  Temptation  of  Christ,  are  considered 
among  the  ablest  which  he  has  published.  They  are  generally 
printed  as  one  discourse ;  but  in  their  translation  we  have  thought 
it  best  to  keep  up  tlie  divisions. 


DISCOURSE    VIII, 


THE    TEMPTATION    OF    CHRIST.* 

"  Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil. 
And  when  he  had  fasted  forty  days  and  forty  nights,  he  was  afterwards  an  hungered.  And 
when  the  tempter  came  to  him,  he  said.  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these 
stones  be  made  bread.  But  he  answered  and  said.  It  is  written,  Man  shall  not  live  by 
bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God.  Then  the 
devil  taketh  him  up  into  the  holy  city,  and  setteth  him  on  a  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  and 
saith  unto  him.  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself  down  :  for  it  is  written.  He  shall 
give  his  angels  charge  concerning  thee  :  and  in  their  hands  they  shall  bear  thee  up,  lest 
at  any  time  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone.  Jesus  said  unto  him.  It  is  written  again, 
thou  Shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.  Again,  the  devil  taketh  him  up  into  an  exceed- 
ing high  mountain,  and  sheweth  him  all  the  Idngdoms  of  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  them  ; 
and  saith  unto  him,  All  these  things  will  I  give  thee,  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship 
me.  Then  saith  Jesus  unto  him.  Get  thee  hence,  Satan:  for  it  is  written.  Thou  shalt 
worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt  thou  serve.  Then  the  devil  leaveth  Him, 
and  behold,  angels  came  and  ministered  unto  Him."— Matt.  iv.  1-11. 

We  now  find  ourselves  on  one  of  those  famous  battle-fields, 
where  laurels  were  won  which  to  this  day  bloom  on  our  brows, 
and  triumphs  achieved  which  make  us,  in  Christ  Jesus,  conquerors 
before  the  fight,  victors  even  in  defeat. 

Never  has  a  struggle  been  carried  on,  more  wonderful  in  its  cha- 
racter, and  more  blessed  in  its  results,  than  this,  which  approaches 
us  so  nearly,  and  is  so  closely  interwoven  with  our  most  sacred 
interests.  It  is  worth  our  while  to  linger  here,  and  fasten  our 
eyes  upon  its  whole  progress. 

*  The  title  of  these  sermons  on  the  Temptation  of  Christ,  in  the  original,  is,  Saian'$ 
Tlefen    ■  The  Deptha  of  z&tow..— Trans. 

9*  201 


202  FRED.    WM.    KEUMlVtACnER. 

Jesus  led  into  the  Wilderness. — No  sooner  iiud  Jesus  been 
consecrated  and  anointed  to  the  office  of  Mediator  of  the  new- 
covenant,  by  the  water  of  Jordan,  and  the  fire-baptism  of  tho 
Spirit,  without  measure,  than  there  descended  upon  Him  from 
heaven  an  audible  testimony,  that  He  was  the  only-begotten  of 
the  Father,  in  whom  He  was  well  pleased.  The  sonship  of  our 
Lord,  and  His  essential  unity  with  the  Father,  seems,  in  the 
days  of  His  flesh,  to  have  been,  even  to  Himself,  more  an  object 
of  faith  than  of  sight  and  enjoyment.  It  is  possible  that,  at 
moments  at  least.  His  Godhead  might  have  been  so  obscured,  or 
so  concealed,  that  He  could  have  been  conscious  of  it  only  by 
naked  faith  in  the  naked  word  of  the  Father.  It  was  not  for 
His  disciples  only,  but  for  His  own  sake  also,  that  the  Father 
ever  and  anon  exclaimed  from  heaven,  "  This  is  my  beloved 
Son,"  in  order  to  strengthen  His  belief  in  Himself  ;  which,  as 
we  have  observed,  sometimes — as,  for  instance,  in  the  hour  of 
desertion  on  the  Cross — was  nothing  but  a  bare  belief  destitute 
of  all  sensible  enjoyment. 

Consecrated  and  divinely  equipped  for  His  priestly  office, 
Jesus  now  hastens  into  the  interior  of  the  wilderness.  The 
power  by  which  he  is  impelled  and  guided,  is,  according  to  the 
gospel,  the  Holy  Spirit.  Was  the  Lord  aware  why  the  Spirit 
led  Him  into  the  wilderness  ?  Perhaps  partially  only,  and  in 
general ;  the  particular  object,  the  Father  might  have  concealed 
from  Him.  We  too  know,  by  experience,  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
is  not  always  pleased  to  disclose  to  us,  beforehand,  the  reason  why 
He  impels  us  hither  or  thither.  He  not  unfrequently  leaves  us 
to  pursue  our  course  altogether  in  the  dark .  Inwardly  we  hear 
His  call :  "  Arise,  and  go  here  or  there,  to  such  a  place,  into 
such  a  house,  to  this  brother,  into  that  connection,  or  whitherso- 
ever it  may  be."  We  ask,  "  Why  ?  what  have  I  to  do  there  ?" 
— but  there  comes  no  answer.  Only  the  louder  yet  and  more 
penetrating  do  we  hear  the  call  in  our  hearts,  "Away,  be  gone  ; 
tarry  not  I  "  Wc  inquire  anew  what  this  inward  drawing  and 
impulse  may  signify,  but  it  remains  a  mystery  ;  we  must  go  forth 


THE   TEMPTATION    OF   CHRIST.  203 

in  the  dark  :  aud  should  wc  hesitate,  at  once  there  is  the  con- 
science in  uproar,  And  a  bitter  taste  of  divine  displeasure  in  the 
soul.  We  must  away — we  must ;  and  afterwards  i\\q  lohereforc 
first  reveals  itself.  There,  Philip  finds  a  treasurer  who  is  wait- 
ing for  his  instruction,  and  here,  Elijah  a  widow,  of  whose  per- 
fect regeneration  he  is  to  be  the  instrument  ;  here,  a  mourning 
brother  welcomes  us,  and  says,  "  Ah,  like  an  angel  from  the 
Lord  art  thou  come  to  me  !"  and  there,  in  a  different  way,  we 
come  to  find  why  the  Spirit  has  so  called  and  urged  us  ;  and  not 
till  we  have  set  out,  does  the  sun  rise  on  our  way  and  all  become 
bright  and  clear.  At  other  times,  the  Holy  Spirit  condescends 
to  reveal  to  us,  in  a  slight  degree,  why  He  leads  us  this  way  or 
that ;  but  the  rest,  nay  the  most  important  part  of  that  which 
^is  awaiting  us.  He  reserves  to  Himself,  and  keeps  it  hidden  from 
our  eyes.  We  may  indeed  say,  "  I  must  enter  my  closet  to  pray, 
— this  house,  to  render  assistance, — that  office,  to  be  useful  ;"  but 
what  we  may  have  to  do  in  that  closet,  this  house,  and  that 
office,  beside  praying,  assisting,  and  being  useful, — that  we  are 
here  to  wrestle  with  the  Lord  ;  there  to  be  crushed  and  broken  ; 
that  here  the  flames  of  the  purifying  furnace  are  to  assail  us  ; 
there  the  "Mah'anaim"  (Gen.  xxxii.  2),  to  meet  us  ;  or  what- 
ever else  it  may  be, — of  all  that  not  a  syllable  had  been  revealed 
to  us.  With  this,  for  wise  reasons,  we  were  to  become  acquainted 
afterwards,  in  the  way  of  experience. 

It  would  appear  that  this  latter  was  the  case  with  the 
Saviour.  He  went  into  the  wilderness,  half  in  the  light,  half  in 
the  dark.  He  had,  perhaps,  only  a  certain  general  knowledge 
of  what  was  to  befall  Him  :  "  I  am  to  fast,  to  suffer,  to  deny 
myself,  and  in  the  extremcst  depths  of  humiliation  and  poverty  to 
begin  my  priestly  office."  So  much  the  Spirit  had  revealed  to 
Him  ;  but  the  severe,  frightful  temptations  that  awaited  Him 
were,  according  to  the  counsel  of  His  Father,  carefully  hid- 
den from  His  eyes.  The  unexpectedness  of  what  was  to  befall, 
was  so  to  increase  the  difficulty  of  the  struggle,  that  the  triumph 
should  appear  the  more  splendid  and  glorious. 


204  FKED.    Wir     KRUMMACITEK. 

The  Fast. — Jesus  went  into  the  wilderness  to  fast.  So  far 
Ilis  forcsiglit  reached  for  the  present  ;  yea,  farther,  even  to  anti- 
v;.ipate  the  great  object,  the  m3'sterious  signification  of  this  fast- 
ing. Did  not,  then,  this  fasting  of  Jesus  come  within  the 
particular  plan  of  Him  who  led  Him  into  the  wilderness  ?  Cer- 
tainly :  that  He  should  fast  w'as  the  design  of  God,  but  only  a 
part  of  it.  And  do  you  ask  now.  For  what  reason  w^as  Jesus 
obliged  to  fast,  and  w^hy  in  such  dreary  solitude,  and  why  was 
his  abstinence  so  painful,  and  protracted  through  forty  days  and 
forty  nights  ?  Know  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  fasting  of 
Jesus  w^as  of  a  different  nature  from  that  of  Moses,  for  instance, 
on  the  Mount,  and  of  other  saints.  -The  fasting  of  our  Lord  was 
more  than  a  mere  spiritual  exercise,  or  preparation  for  his  priest- 
hood ;  it  was  an  actual  sacrifice,  a  commencement  of  the  priestly 
office.  The  key  not  only  to  His  temptation,  but  also  to  His 
fasting,  we  find  behind  the  barred  portals  of  the  lost  paradise. 
It  is  atonement  for  Adam's  sin,  payment  of  his  debt,  expiatory 
passion.  If  the  first  Adam  lived  in  the  delightful  fields  of  Para- 
dise, we  find  the  second  Adam  in  a  waste,  howling  wilderness. 
If  Adam,  the  man  of  the  earth,  dwelt  amid  the  fragrant  bowers, 
and  enjoyed  the  delicious  fruits  of  Eden,  the  man  from  heaven  is 
shut  up  to  hunger  in  a  desert,  surrounded  only  by  stones  and 
unfruitful  shrubs,  where  not  one  blade  of  corn  was  to  be  found 
to  appease  the  cravings  of  His  nature.  If  our  first  parent  was 
blessed  with  the  unutterable  happiness  of  holding  sensible  com- 
munion with  the  Almighty  and  His  holy  angels,  and  was  glad- 
dened with  the  society  of  a  spotless  wife,  Jesus  is  banished  into 
a  dreary  solitude,  dwelling,  as  St.  Luke  expresses  it,  among  wild 
beasts,  and  beset  with  the  old  serpent,  Satan,  and  his  angels. 
Horrible  contrast,  but  so  God  determines.  By  fasting  and  pri- 
vation in  the  gloomy  and  inhospitable  desert,  the  Surety  and 
Substitute  expiates,  in  the  sinner's  stead,  for  the  unpardonable, 
the  desperate  presumption  with  which  Adam,  in  despite  of  God's 
explicit  warning  and  threatening,  stretched  forth  his  hand 
towards  the  fruit  of  the  forbidden  tree.     Yes,  Jesus  expiates  it 


THE    TEMPTATION    OF    CHRIST.  205 

for  US,  His  people  ;  expiates  it  for  Ilis  elect.  We  have  nothing 
more  to  expiate,  nothing  for  all  eternity.  But  you,  who  have  no 
interest  in  the  eternal  satisfaction  of  the  Lamb,  you  only  see  in 
those  circumstances  in  which  Jesus  finds  himself  in  the  wilder- 
ness, a  faithful  picture  of  your  own  coming  fate.  So  will  you  be 
compelled  to  house  forever  in  eternal  deserts  ;  and  when  you 
hunger,  stones  will  be  crammed  into  your  mouth  for  bread  ;  and 
when  you  thirst,  you  must  swallow  flames  instead  of  water  ;  you 
must  live  as  among  ravenous  beasts,  filthy  dogs,  roaring  lions, 
and  hissing  serpents  ;  and  will  be  desolate  amid  multitudes  of 
the  damned  :  for  in  hell  there  is  neither  sympathy,  nor  friendship, 
nor  interchange  of  love  :  there,  hatred  and  selfishness  prevail, 
and  each  is  too  much  engrossed  with  his  own  agony  and  tor- 
ments to  commiserate  the  anguish  of  others.  The  duration  of 
this  sorrow  is  deniily !  With  this  truth,  mcthinks,  one  could 
burst  rocks,  and  make  mountains  tremble  I  And  your  hearts 
tremble  not  !     Alas  !  here  is  more  than  stone  and  rock  I 

But  there  are  also  fast-days  in  the  kingdom  of  God  upon 
earth,  bodily  and  spiritual  fast-days  of  all  kinds,  both  painful  and 
delightsome.  The  most  joyful  are  observed  in  the  spring  months 
of  the  new  life,  in  the  beginning  of  conversion,  after  the  first 
assurances  of  God's  mercy,  after  the  heavenly  bridegroom's  first 
declaration  of  love,  when  God  has  just  called  his  Son  out  of  Egypt. 
Then  there  is  no  need  of  a  command,  "  Renounce,  deny  thyself, 
abstain  ;"  all  this  comes  of  itself.  With  what  haste,  then,  does 
the  soul  flit  away  as  on  swift  wings  from  the  broad  pastures  and 
pleasure  grounds  of  this  great  world  I 

IIow  can  one  continue  to  fill  his  belly  with  husks  when  ho 
has  tasted  of  the  vineyards  of  the  promised  land,  and  drank  of 
its  rivers  of  milk  and  honey  ?  How  can  he  listen  with  delight  to 
the  fiddles  of  the  dancer  or  the  songs  of  fleshly  rioters,  after 
that  he  has  heard  the  melody  of  King  David's  liarp  ?  How 
can  he  gaze  with  pleasure  on  theatrical  farces  and  puppet-shows, 
after  he  has  once  seen  the  heavens  open  before  him  with  all  their 
glories  ?     Or,   how   can   he   loiter   away  time  on  bolsters  of 


206  '  FKED.    WM.    KKUMlMACnER. 

ease  and  debauchery,  when  He,  whom  our  soul  loves,  hangs 
before  our  sphntual  sight,  bleeding  on  the  accursed  tree  or 
crowned  with  thorns  ?  Ah  !  away  then,  quickly  away,  with  the 
shadows  of  your  pitiful  joys,  and  the  glittering  tinsel  of  your 
vanities  !     We  are  enjoying  a  fast  day. 

It  is  often  debated  and  asked,  whether  this  or  that  enjoyment, 
or  pleasure,  suits  with  the  Christian  profession  ?  Cease  asking, 
and  become  a  Christian — so  will  you  learn  what  is  consistent  and 
what  is  not — and  how  far  the  "may"  and  the  "can"  of  a  rege- 
rate  spirit — an  heir  of  God  and  His  kingdom — may  stretch  in 
a  given  direction. 

There  are  yet  other  fast  days  in  a  state  of  grace — fasts  of  a 
painful  sort — where  the  soul  is  not  led  out  from  the  meadows  of 
the  world  into  those  of  the  Lamb — but  from  those  of  the  Lamb 
into  the  wilderness:  and  this  is  a  bitter  change.  It  was  to  us — 
ah  !  how  unspeakably  delightful  as  we  leaned  on  the  bosom  of 
Jesus — such  sweet,  tender  emotions  and  feelings — such  a  blissful 
enjoyment,  and  aflfecting  taste  of  the  grace  and  nearness  of  Christ 
as  then  filled  our  soul — it  made  us  wish  for  nothing  more  than 
just  to  die  on  the  spot,  and  so  pass  away  from  the  delightful 
forecourt  into  the  very  interior  of  Paradise  itself.  The  south 
wind  blew  through  our  garden,  so  that  the  spices  dropped,  and 
rich  clusters  of  Canaan  hung  down  to  our  very  mouths,  and  a 
delightful  blessedness  lay  spread  like  the  dew  of  morning  upon 
our  soul,  and  we  were  royally  quickened,  and  forgot  all  tlie  sor- 
rows of  this  world.  But,  ere  we  were  aware,  the  fast-day  is 
announced,  and  the  bridegroom  is  taken  from  us.  The  fountains 
of  milk  and  honey  are  sealed,  and  the  soul,  robbed  of  its  sweet 
draughts,  sits  poor,  emotionless,  and  parched,  on  the  sand.  She 
must  hang  her  harp  on  the  willows,  and  do  no  more,  at  the  most, 
than  continue  to  sigh,  with  feverish  tongue,  for  one  little  drop  of 
grace,  as  she  sits  on  the  baked  earth. 

These  are  fast-days  of  God's  children  in  the  wilderness. 
Happy  he  whose  feet  are  then  set  on  the  rock — who  is  not  led 
by  his  individual  emotions  and  feelings,  but  by  Christ  and  His 


THE   TEMPTATION   OF   CIIKISl  207 

word.  ''His  bread  shall  be  given  him,  and  his  waters  are  sure." 
Although  he  has  it  not  sensibly,  yet  he  has  it  in  simple  faith  ; 
and  however  the  pleasing  experiences  may  fail,  yet  his  peace 
remains  unmoved.  He  lies  at  anchor  by  the  rock  of  the  sure 
declarations  of  God,  which  stand  forever  ;  and  he  knows  that 
though  "  the  mountains  may  depart,  and  the  hills  be  removed," 
yet  the  favor  of  God  will  never  depart  from  him,  nor  the  coven- 
ant of  his  peace  be  disturbed.  Even  such  fasting  in  the  wilder- 
ness, if  God  wills  it,  is  good  and  wholesome.  That  very  grace 
which  feeds  and  loves  us  to-day,  suffers  us  on  the  morrow  to 
hunger  and  thirst,  and  hold  fast-day.  What  more  can  we  wish, 
if  it  be  hut  grace  which  leads  us  ?  May  it  ever  guide  us 
according  to  its  good  pleasure  ! 

The  Temptation — Jesus  went  into  the  wilderness  to  fast  : 
but  in  the  plan  of  God,  there  was  yet  more  than  this  contem- 
plated. What  says  the  Gospel  ?  "  Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of 
the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness  to  be  temyted  of  the  devil."  How 
frightful  this  sounds  !  The  Holy  Spirit  leads  out  the  Son  of  God 
to  meet  the  devil !  and  for  what  ?  In  dry,  unambiguous  words, 
there  it  stands:  ^^  to  he  tempted  of  the  devil."  What  a  circum- 
stance !  Yet,  comfort  yourselves  with  it,  ye  children  of  the 
kingdom  ;  stay  yourselves  thereon,  ye  tempted  souls.  For 
your  consolation  is  it  written.  Let  none  of  you  imagine  that 
the  roaring  lion  roams  about  in  Israel  loosed  and  unrestrained  ; 
and  has  free  play,  and  can  fall  upon  whomsoever  he  will,  and 
shoot  his  arrows  at  pleasure,  and  lay  his  snares  unperceived,  as 
if  the  captain  of  the  Lord's  host  knew  not  of  it.  Far  otherwise. 
Our  Leader  keeps  him  ever  in  His  eyes,  and  holds  him  fast  by 
His  strong  words  ;  so  that  what  the  preacher  says  is  true  also 
of  the  devil  :  "  The  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to 
the  strong."  There  is  no  fear  that  he  will  ever  touch  one  con- 
cerning whom  Jesus  has  said  to  him  :  "  On  this  mine  anointed 
lay  not  thine  hand."  Around  such  an  one  this  little  word  of 
the  Master  erects  a  wall  of  fire,  and  a  rampart  over  which  no 


208  FEED.    WM.    KRUlMMACnEE. 

fiery  dart  of  the  evil  one  can  leap.  And  whomsoever  the  devil 
does  assail,  him  he  assails  with  the  express  permission  of  Jesus, 
consequently  as  a  means  for  his  salvation  and  blessm^.  Moreover, 
is  there  marked  out  by  the  royal  sceptre  a  line  presciibing  how 
far  he  may  proceed.  At  a  certain  little  spot,  is  the  injunction 
laid.     "  Thus  far,  and  no  farther." 

What  does  the  evil  one  wish  ?  He  has  been  led  out,  and 
openly  exhibited,  and  Immanuel  has  worked  a  triumph  out  of 
him,  through  himself.  Henceforth  he  belongs  to  those  powers 
in  Heaven,  on  Earth,  and  in  Hell,  with  whom  Christ  does  what 
He  will.  He  uses  him  like  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  Korah,  and 
other  reprobates,  for  the  good  of  His  seed,  as  rods,  and  as 
goads — as  a  means  of  discipline  ;  and  when  he  has  used  them 
enough — these  awful,  terrible  scourges — then  will  He  break  them 
over  His  knee,  and  fling  them  away,  and  chain  up  the  dragon 
in  the  abyss. 

Eejoice,  then,  ye  lambs  of  God,  that  the  devil  is  nothing  more 
than  your  great  shepherd's  dog,  who  must  dance  to  his  pipe,  and 
howl  at  his  voice,  and  must  go  and  come  as  he  bids.  As  often 
as  the  fiery  darts  whiz  around  you,  think  of  this,  my  beloved  j 
that  it  is  the  Lord  and  His  Spirit  that  has  led  you  into  the 
wilderness  and  set  you  in  the  strife,  and  He  himself  is  with  you 
on  the  plain. 

'^  All  temptations  which  assail  the  children  of  God,  by  divine 
permission,  have  but  one  object.  They  are  designed  to  make 
evident,  and  bring  to  light,  what  lies  hidden  in  the  heart. 
Oftentimes  it  pleases  the  Lord  to  watch  this  development  of 
secret  things  himself.  He  takes  delight  in  His  own  works. 
When  Father  Abraham  had  made  ready  his  little  sacrifice  on 
Mount  Moriah,  then  the  Lord  called  to  him  from  heaven  :  "  Now 
I  know  that  thou  fearest  God,  seeing  thou  hast  not  withheld  thy 
son,  thine  only  son  from  me."  The  Lord,  indeed,  knew  this 
before  ;  but  He  wished  to  observe  this  holy  fear,  which  He  had 
wrought  in  the  heart  of  His  servant,  openly  manifesting  itself. 
It  was  to  Him  a  feast  of  the  eye.     So  must  also  many  a  dear 


THE   TEMPTATION   OF   CHRIST.  209 

child  of  God  pass  through  gloom,  and  strife,  and  tribulation, 
because  the  Lord  Jesus  likes  to  hear  His  little  child  pray,  and 
sigh,  and  continue  doing  so,  and  to  see  him  walking  trustfully 
by  His  side  over  the  raging  billows.  This  gives  Ilim  joy.  This, 
however,  we  may  not  say  directly  to  these  dead  souls  ;  they 
would  think  we  mocked  them  ;  for  they  themselves  see  in  it 
nothing  beautiful  which  could  delight  their  Lord.  But  the  Lord 
truly  sees  it,  and  He  will  see  it. 

Ofttimes  the  Lord  suffers  his  little  children  to  be  tempted  and 
brought  into  straits,  in  order  that  the  hidden  life  within  may  be 
displayed,  not  so  much  to  himself,  as  to  their  hrethren  and  our- 
selves. So  he  shows  to  us  an  Abraham's  faith  ;  a  Job's  pa- 
tience ;  a  Moses's  love  ;  an  Elijah's  zeal ;  a  Canaanitish  woman's 
humility  and  fervor,  in  order  that  we  may  praise  his  power, 
which  is  so  mighty  in  the  weak  children  of  men.  But  are  we  de- 
sponding, and  disposed  to  think  that  such  saints  might  all 
reach  heaven,  while  with  us  it  will  be  otherwise  ?  Then  he  sets 
before  our  eyes,  here  a  David,  and  there  a  Simon  Peter — grapes 
which,  in  the  press  of  trial,  yielded  not  wine  merely,  but  also 
bitter  drops  of  sin  from  their  hearts.  Such  a  sight  makes  us 
pluck  up  courage,  especially  when  we  learn  that  Simon  was 
nevertheless  called  a  rock  ;  and  David  a  man  after  God's  own 
heart. 

And  so  has  it  often  happened,  that  those  men  whose  sanctity 
has  shone  out  with  peculiar  splendor,  and  who  have  enjoyed  ex- 
traordinary esteem  in  the  world,  have  at  last,  under  the  bufifet- 
ings  of  the  tempest,  been  stripped  and  blasted  and  compelled 
to  display  their  weakness  and  frailty,  and  miserable  sinfulness. 
Yea,  with  all  their  bright  sanctity,  and  glorious  activity  for  God 
— to  lose  themselves  like  a  little  rivulet  in  the  sand  :  they  who 
were  once  such  noble  streams,  that,  compared  with  what  they 
were,  it  would  be  difficult  longer  to  recognize  them.  And  this 
the  Lord  permits  in  order  that  all  idolizing  of  mortal  men  may 
be  prevented,  grace  preserved  in  its  proper  splendor,  and  tho 
honor  given  to  Him  alone,  to  whom  alone  it  is  due. 


210  FRED.    WM.    KRUMMACHEE. 

As  a  rule,  the  object  of  tliose  temptations  to  wliicli  we  are 
exposed,  is  to  bring  before  our  view  what  is  in  us,  and  to  kee-p 
us  properly  humbled  in  the  dust.  We  mortals  become  pious  far 
too  lightly  ;  but  Jesus  seeks  sinners.  We  are  righteous  all  too 
soon  ;  but  the  Lord  is  after  the  unrighteous.  We  are  swift  to 
soar  ;  but  Jesus  wants  to%  see  us  in  the  depths.  Therefore 
does  lie  suffer  the  devil,  at  times,  to  create  a  little  stir  in  the 
sink  of  our  corrupt  hearts,  in  order  that  the  vile  odor  may 
mount  and  strike  our  senses  ;  and  the  hideous  viper-brood 
which  nestled  quiet  and  unseen  at  the  bottom,  may  rise  to  the 
top,  and  sprawl  about  on  the  surface  before  our  eyes.  There- 
fore does  he  occasionally  permit  the  evil  one  to  scare  up  the 
swarm  of  rebellious  thoughts  and  desires,  which  were  lying  dor- 
mant in  the  inner  chamber  of  our  souls,  and  set  them  in  motion, 
in  order  that  we  may  know  all  that  the  temple  of  God  still 
harbors,  and  be  constrained  to  forego  all  our  boasting  and  pride. 
For  this  cause  is  it  that  he  allows  the  accuser,  now  and  then, 
to  take  us  by  surprise,  and  startle  our  slumbering  passions  as  by 
the  trump  of  doom. 

Ah  I  how  astonished  are  we  then  to  find  that  they  are  still 
there — these  old  hateful  companions — whom,  as  we  fondly  hoped, 
we  had  long  since  swept  away  with  the  besom  of  our  pious  ex- 
cises, and  so  made  our  home  perfectly  clean.  But  now,  alas  ! 
it  is  quite  otherwise.  Then  the  dear  bride  sees  all  the  fair  cos- 
metics fade  away  from  her  cheek,  and  she  becomes  again  as  at 
first,  an  Ethiopian,  black  and  without  beauty,  and  renews  her 
former  repentance — but  also  loves  again  with  her  early  love — for 
thus  will  the  bridegroom  have  it.  Now  under  the  feet  of  the 
high-climbing  saint,  the  topmost  round  in  the  ladder  of  sanctity 
suddenly  gives  way,  and,  alas  I  he  stands  no  more  even  on  the 
lowest,  but  lies  beneath,  utterly  prostrate,  and  is  a  poor  wretch, 
such  as,  perhaps,  he  never  was  before.  Now  the  proud  pea- 
cock sees  his  brilliant  train  suddenly  drop  to  the  earth  ;  his  ght- 
ter  passes  away  like  a  mist  ;  the  creature  that  boasted  begins 
to  sneak — becomes  naked  and  bare,  slinks  ashamed  into  a  cor- 


THE   TEMPTATION   OF   CHRIST.  211 

ner,  and  comes,  at  last,  to  rejoice  with  all  his  heart  that  Another 
will  bestow  on  him  the  wedding  garment— that  a  cross  stands  on 
Golgotha,  and  that  on  the  throne  there  sits  a  queen,  who  is 
called — not  righteousness — but  grace — grace. 


DISCOURSE  IX. 
THE  OBJECT  AND  AGENT  IN  THE  TEMPTATION. 

"  Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil," 
etc.— Matt.  iv.  1-11. 

We  have  learned  the  chief  cause  why  God  employs  the  devil 
among  His  children.  The  question  now  is,  why  did  God  ordain 
that  Jesus  our  Lord  should  be  tempted.  And  here,  at  the  outset, 
we  protest  most  solemnly  against  that  degrading  view  and  teach- 
ing, which  unshrinkingly  asserts  that  Jesus  was  placed  in  the 
fiery  ordeal  in  order  that  He,  in  battle  and  strife,  struggling  and 
praying,  might  overcome  and  slay  those  sins  which  He  had 
carried  in  His  own  flesh^-and  in  His  own  members.  No,  we 
can  listen  to  nothing  of  this  sort  respecting  our  Saviour.  That 
He  aj^peared  in  the  form  of  sinful  flesh — this  we  know  ;  but 
yet  only  in  form,  not  in  sinful  flesh  itself — and  though  like  us  in 
all  things,  yet  was  there  one  point  excepted — namely  sin.  God 
be  praised  that  on  this  subject  the  divine  word  does  not  leave 
us  in  doubt.  With  the  perfect  sinlessness  and  purity  of  our 
Mediator,  stands  or  falls  the  whole  structure  of  our  evangelic 
hopes.  Had  the  white  linen  of  His  innocence  been  stained  with 
the  smallest  particle  of  unholy  desire  and  emotion — could  any 
one  but  prove  this — then  might  the  church  be  shut — the  Bible 
burned — confidence  cast  away — and  despair  only  reign-.  For 
then  would  Jesus  not  be  our  Saviour — and  His  ransom  not  be 
available — and  sufiicieut. 

212 


THE   OBJECT   AND   AGENT   IN   THE   TEMPTATION.         213 

The  temptations  of  Jesus  were  in  their  design  far  different 
from  those  which  we  are  wont  to  experience.  He  endured  them, 
not  for  Himself,  but  for  us  and  in  our  stead.  They  were  a  part 
of  His  mediatorial  sufferings.  We  saw  Adam  tempted  by  the 
serpent,  and  wantonly  giving  up  the  ship  to  the  eddying  vortex 
of  his  allurements.  But  the  second  Adam  repairs  the  evil  by 
exposing  Himself  to  a  still  severer  assault ;  breaking  the  lance 
of  the  foe — completely  overcoming  the  accuser,  and  rendering  to 
the  Father  a  perfect  obedience.  Adam  had  by  disobedience 
become  the  prey  of  Satan,  and  the  second  Adam  drinks  for  him 
the  curse,  and  descends  from  His  throne  of  majesty  into  the 
society  of  evil  spirits — into  the  very  pool  of  hell. 

Unexampled  humiliation  I  The  Almighty  God  touched  by  the 
murderous  hands  of  Satan — the  Sovereign  of  the  universe  hissed 
at  on  every  side  by  the  old  serpent — the  only  Holy  One  belea- 
guered by  the  powers  of  darkness,  and  the  Lord  of  hosts  a  foot- 
ball for  accursed  angels  of  hell — caught  up  by  them — snatched 
away — carried  off  and  tempted,  and  urged  by  them  to  the  most 
shameful  things  I  What  a  horrible  position  for  the  Son  of  God  ! 
more  horrible  and  monstrous  than  we  can  conceive  ;  for  we  by 
nature  stand  much  nearer  Satan  who  is  our  father.  To  us  who 
carry  his  likeness,  his  blackness  is  not  so  hateful,  not  so  repul- 
sive, as  it  must  be  to  Him  who  dwells  in  light,  and  is  Himself 
nothing  but  light  :  Verily,  no  trivial  suffering  must  it  have  been 
for  Him  to  be  compelled  so  to  dwell  among  friends  !  But  down 
into  this  very  pool — this  abyss — must  the  Son  of  God  descend. 
So  must  the  floods  of  Belial  terrify  Him,  in  order  that  payment 
may  be  made  for  the  gigantic  guilt  which  we  have  heaped  up. 
And  under  such  oppositions  and  hindrances  must  He  alone — ■ 
deserted  of  help — through  battle  and  strife — execute  the  Father's 
will,  in  order  that  with  His  own  brilliant,  spotless  obedience,  He 
might  cover  the  disobedience  of  Adam  and  his  seed  in  the  sight 
of  God. 

Another  object  of  the  temptations  of  Jesus  was  this  :  that 
He  might  become  our  sympathizing  High  Priest.     This,  indeed, 


214:  FEED.    WM.    KEUMMACHEK. 

He  could  have  been  without  actually  tasting  our  temptations. 
But  now  we,  weak  mortals,  can  more  firmly  believe  that  He  is  so, 
and  enjoy  greater  freedom  in  pouring  out  our  hearts  before  Him, 
and  in  the  dark  hour  of  temptations  bewail  to  Him  our  sore 
need. 

When  two  persons  meet  who  are  able  to  recount  similar  neces- 
sities— and  the  same  bufifetings  of  Satan,  oh,  what  mutual  dis- 
closures take  place  !  what  trustful  communicativeness — what 
tender  sympathy  is  then  manifest  I  Then  one  soul  gushes  out 
and  flows  over  into  the  other,  and  time  steals  rapidly  on.  But 
on  the  other  hand,  towards  one  who  knows  not  our  needs  by 
experience,  we  are  dumb,  reserved,  and  take  no  pleasure  in  com- 
municating, because  we  fear  that  he  will  be  able  neither  to 
understand  nor  sympathize  with  us.  So,  indeed,  would  we  have 
kept  farther  away  from  our  Heavenly  Friend,  had  He  not  become 
our  companion  in  tribulation.  But  now  the  thought  is  exceed- 
ingly refreshing,  that  He  Himself,  was  tempted  in  all  points  like 
as  we  are — and  knows  the  bitterest  anguish  of  our  soul  from 
His  own  experience.  Now,  even  though  no  fellow-man  under- 
stands us,  ah  I  still  we  know  there  is  yet  one  Friend  at  hand,  to 
whom  we  need  but  lisp  a  word  of  our  affairs  and  concerns,  and 
He  at  once  comprehends  all  we  feel.  His  experience  reaches 
down  into  the  thickest  nights  of  the  soul — into  the  most  frightful 
depths  of  inward  sufferings  or  conflicts.  Under  no  juniper  tree 
canst  thou  sit,  which  has  not  overshadowed  Him  ;  no  thorn  can 
wound  thee,  from  which  his  heart  has  not  bled  ;  no  fiery  dart  can 
hit  thee,  which  has  not  been  shot  at  His  sacred  head.  He  can 
indeed  have  compassion.  Yes,  only  believe  it,  dear  soul ;  as 
often  as  thou  liest  in  the  furnace,  over  thee  the  eyes  of  the 
watchful  Refiner  melt  in  tears— and  a  great,  holy,  mother- 
heart,  bleeds  for  thee  in  sympathy  from  heaven. 

It  was  then  out  of  pure  compassion  and  love  towards  a  sinful 
world,  that  God  placed  His  Son  in  the  fire  of  temptation. 

We  may  now  further  ask,  whether  God  had  not  some  design 
in  this  thing  also  towards  the  tempter  himself  ?  and  this  question 


THE   OBJECT   AND   AGENT   IN   THE   TEMrTATION.         215 

I  am  the  more  disposed  to  answer  affirmatively,  from  the  distin- 
guished position  which  "this  prince  of  fallen  angels  occupies  in 
the  realm  of  spirits.  That  satjr-form,  with  horns  and  hoofs, 
under  which  the  popular  faith  is  wont  to  picture  the  devil,  and 
which  has  more  of  the  elements  of  the  ridiculous,  and  the  coarse, 
and  the  vulgar,  than  of  the  grand,  and  the  awful,  has  little 
truth  in  it.  Incomparably  deeper  and  richer  in  meaning  and 
reality,  is  that  view  which  we  find  living  in  so  many  popular 
traditions  of  a  grey  antiquity,  which  is  wont  everywhere  to 
associate  with  the  devil,  in  some  way,  whatever  is  monstrous, 
wild,  fearful,  and  savagely  formed  in  nature  ;  and  which  points 
out  to  us  in  woody,  mountainous,  and  rocky  regions — now  here, 
and  now  there — a  devil's  stone,  a  devil's  ladder,  a  devil's  chapel, 
or  a  devil's  bridge.  Let  a  person  but  peruse  connectedly  those 
isolated  and  scattered  traits,  which  the  Scriptures  have  in  many 
places,  half-cursorily  sketched  of  this  fallen  morning  star — this 
firstling  of  creation,  and  in  presence  of  this  prince  of  hell,  he 
will  hardly  be  able  to  avoid  a  certain  degree  of  fear  and  amaze- 
ment. 

He  is  the  Leviathan  of  whom  the  Lord  says  :  "  Wilt  thou 
play  with  him  as  with  a  bird  ?  Wilt  thou  bind  him  for  thy 
maidens  ?  Canst  thou  put  a  hook  in  his  nose  ?  or  bore  his  jaw 
through  with  a  thorn  ?"  He  is  the  mighty  one  of  whom  it  is 
asserted  ;  "  None  is  so  fierce  that  dare  stir  him  up.  Who  can 
discover  the  face  of  his  garment  ?  or  who  can  come  to  him  with 
his  double  bridle  ?  who  can  open  the  doors  of  his  face  ?  His  teeth 
are  terrible  round  about.  His  scales  are  his  pride,  shut  up 
together  as  with  a  close  seal  ;  one  is  so  near  another  that  no 
air  can  come  between  them.  By  his  neesings  a  light  doth  shine, 
and  his  eyes  are  like  the  eyelids  of  the  morning.  Out  of  his 
mouth  go  burning  lamps,  and  sparks  of  fire  leap  out.  Out  of 
his  nostrils  goeth  smoke,  as  out  of  a  seething  pot  or  caldron. 
His  breath  kindleth  coals,  and  a  flame  goeth  out  of  his  mouth. 
In  bis  neck  remaineth  strength,  and  sorrow  is  turned  into  joy 
before  him.     His  heart  is  as  firm  as  a  stone,  yea,  as  hard  as  a 


216  ^  FEED.    WM.    KETJMMACHEK. 

piece  of  the  nether  millstone.  When  he  raiseth  up  himself  the 
mighty  are  afraid.  The  sword  of  him  that  layeth  at  him  cannot 
hold  ;  the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  habergeon.  He  esteemeth 
iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as  rotten  wood.  Darts  are  counted  as 
stubble  ;  he  laugheth  at  the  shaking  of  a  spear.  Upon  earth 
there  is  not  his  like,  who  is  made  without  fear.  He  beholdeth 
all  high  things.  He  is  a  king  over  all  the  children  of  pride." 
These  are  the  features  of  that  mighty  spirit,  who,  viewed  in  his 
original  splendor,  is  no  other  and  no  less  than  the  son  of  God, 
such  as  the  rationalists  describe  him. 

This  Satan — a  ruin  of  indescribable  grandeur — grand  even  in 
desolation,  and  worthy  of  all  wonder — still  an  object  of  honor 
to  the  Master  who  created  it — for  where  is  there  an  understand- 
ing— where  a  policy — where  a  perseverance — an  energy — and  a 
power  hke  his  ? — and  these  things  which  so  excite  our  astonish- 
ment, are  but  the  remains  of  his  original  grandeur — this  Satax, 
I  say,  even  as  Satan,  is  portrayed  in  Scripture  with  a  certain 
air  of  majesty.  Not  only  is  he  there  called  a  lord — a  power — 
a  prince — but  he  is  also  styled  the  ^^ god  of  this  world  ;"  and  it 
is  not  to  be  denied,  that  to  him,  as  such,  a  certain  degree  of 
respect  is  shown.  Eeflect  a  moment,  how  the  Apostle  Jude 
says,  that  even  "  Michael,  the  archangel,  when,  contending  with 
the  devil,  he  disputed  about  the  body  of  Moses,  durst  not  bring 
against  him  a  railing  accusation,  but  said,  'The  Lord  rebuke 
thee.' "  In  Job,  also,  we  see  Satan  standing,  with  angels  and 
good  spirits,  near  the  throne  of  God,  and  the  Lord  holds  con- 
versation with  him,  and  asks  him  whether  he  has  known  and 
considered  His  servant  Job  ;  and  in  reply  to  the  crafty  insinua- 
tion of  the  accuser:  "Doth  Job  fear  God  for  naught?"  the 
Lord  gives  him  power  over  all  his  servant's  possessions,  and 
permits  him  to  plague  and  try  Job,  in  order  that  he,  the  devil, 
may  learn  how  the  power  of  God  was  mighty  in  Job's  weak- 
ness. 

What  an  extraordinary  circumstance  I     One   might   almost 
say,  that  it  was  pleasing  to  the  Almighty  that  even  this  prmce 


THE   OBJECT   AND    AGENT   IN   THE   TEMPTATION.         217 

of  darkness  should  ucknowlcdgc  Him,  and  do  Him  honor.  And 
so  it  is  ;  for  it  is  written  :  ".As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  every 
knee  shall  bow  to  me,  and  every  tongue  confess  that  He  is 
Lord." 

In  like  manner,  also,  was  the  devil  to  take  a  glance  into  the 
depths  of  God's  atoning  work,  and  preeminently,  by  means  of 
the  temptation,  to  learn  to  recognize  the  Paschal  Lamb  in  His 
purity,  and  our  surety  in  His  all-sufficiency,  in  order  that  he,  too, 
might  know,  that  "  Zion  should  be  redeemed  with  judgment," 
and  not  with  caprice,  and  that  no  well-grounded  objection  could 
be  urged  against  the  salvation  of  sinners.  If  the  craftiest  and 
most  sharp-sighted  of  all  spirits  is  constrained  to  wonder  at  the 
wisdom  of  God,  to  admire  His  works,  to  be  speechless  at  His 
counsels,  and  to  praise  His  doings  even  against  his  will  and 
pleasure, — surely  this  redounds  not  a  little  to  the  glory  of  the 
divine  name.  One  of  the  grandest  and  most  solemn  moments 
in  the  day  of  God's  revelation  and  glory,  will  be  that  in  which 
even  Satan  will  be  compelled  publicly  to  acknowledge,  that  to 
the  Lamb  belongs  all  honor,  and  glory,  and  praise  ;  and  when, 
if  I  may  so  speak,  one  god  will  tremblingly  bow  the  knee  to 
another.  This  will  be  a  doxology  no  less  lofty  and  glorious 
than  the  hallelujahs  of  the  heavenly  hosts. 

Observe  now  the  Tempter's  approach. 

Forty  days  and  nights  had  the  Lord  spent  in  the  soUtary 
wilderness  fasting,  and  "  He  was  an  hungered."  Then  came  the 
tempter  to  Him  visibly,  yet  disguised,  and  transformed  into 
"  an  angel  of  light."  He  came  with  a  twofold  design.  First,  he 
wished  to  ascertain  whether  Jesus  was  actually  the  Son  of  God, 
or  not ;  and  secondly,  in  case  He  were  so,  it  was  his  purpose 
to  put  such  a  stumbling-block  in  His  way,  as  that  on  it  the 
whole  work  of  His  redemption  might  be  forever  wrecked.  To 
me  it  appears  highly  probable,  and  what  has  also  been  affirmed 
by  others,  that  the  devil  yet  stood  in  doubt  respecting  the 
person  of  Christ.  Thirty  years  had  Jesus  walked  in  deepest 
seclusion — a  carpenter's  son,  who  had  learned  His  Father's  handi- 

10 


218  FKED.    T\'M.    KEUMMACHEK. 

craft,  had  earned  His  bread  with  the  sweat  of  His  brow  working 
in  the  shop,  had  lived  plainly  and  honestly,  and  had  done 
nothing,  and  said  nothing,  which  other  men  could  not  have  said 
or  done.  No  one  dreamed  that  He  could  have  been  anything 
more  than  a  very  amiable  man  ;  and  it  is  possible  that  even 
Mary  and  Joseph  themselves  had  lowered  not  a  little  in  their 
expectations  concerning  Him,  as  no  more  miracles  occurred,  and 
the  voices  from  heaven  had  ceased.  God  veiled  His  Son  to 
such  a  degree  that  even  the  keen  eyes  of  Satan  could  easily 
have  been  deceived  about  this  plain  carpenter.  Yet  they  were 
not  altogether  deceived.  Among  men,  however,  not  one  su}> 
posed  that  this  simple  laborer  at  Joseph's  bench  could  have 
been  the  Messiah. 

But  Satan  was  shrewd  enough  not  to  concede  too  much  to  the 
external  appearance  of  poverty  and  meanness.  He  might 
possibly  have  surmised  that  this  carpenter,  notwithstanding  his 
humble  guise,  might  nevertheless  be  the  Lord  himself.  He 
discovered  nothing  incongruous  in  the  Redeemer's  beginning 
his  work  in  such  a  lowly  station  ;  and  many  circumstances 
seemed  plainly  to  indicate  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  the  Son 
of  God.  Yet  this  was  only  a  surmise.  He  knew  it  not  cer- 
tainly. And  it  was  this  certainty  he  desired  in  order  to  take 
his  measures  wisely.  Had  the  devil  been  already  assured  that 
Jesus  was  the  real  Messiah,  there  would  have  been  in  his  con- 
duct much  that  was  inexplicable,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter. 
But  now,  the  immediate  object  of  his  obtruding  himself  upon 
Jesus,  was  to  sift  him  thoroughly. 

And  very  craftily  did  the  wily  spirit  so  insinuate  his  tempta- 
tions, that  in  case  Jesus  were  to  prove  himself  the  Messiah,  his 
redeeming  work  should  at  the  outset  receive  a  shock  that  would 
for  ever  annihilate  it.  His  next  design  was  to  throw  the  Saviour 
off  the  mediatorial  track  by  a  dexterous  side-blow,  and  so,  if 
possible,  strengthen  for  ever  his  own  dominion  over  mankind.  In 
order  to  carry  out  these  purposes,  he  presents  before  Jesus  the 
appearance  of  a  kind,  well-meaning   friend.     He  professes  to 


THE   OBJECT   AND   AGENT   IN   THE   TEMPTATION.         219 

desire  nothing  so  earnestly  as  the  carrying  out  of  the  work  of 
redemption.  He  acts  as  if  he  only  wished  to  point  out  a  shorter 
way  to  this  exalted  end  ;  and  manages  everything  with  all  the 
cunning,  finesse  and  artifice  that  might  be  expected  of  a  being 
who,  from  the  highest  stage  of  wisdom  and  understanding,  had 
sunk  into  the  lowest  abyss  of  wickedness. 

Witness  too,  the  aptness  of  the  temptation.  Armed  with  the 
utmost  craft  and  malice,  the  tempter  accosts  Jesus.  He  hoped 
that  the  fearful  solitude  of  the  dry,  barren  wilderness,  in  which 
Jesus  found  himself,  would  facilitate  his  victory.  The  fact  that 
Jesus  hungered  gained  him  an  advantage  for  making  his  first  at 
tack.  Thus  does  this  murderer  of  souls  always  understand  how 
to  direct  his  weapons  against  us,  at  the  right  place,  in  the  right 
time,  and  amidst  befitting  circumstances.  When  we  are  alone, 
apart  from  all  society — when  there  are  no  human  eyes  to  watch 
us,  no  dear  brethren  to  awaken  and  warn  us,  no  redeemed  asso- 
ciates to  strengthen  and  encourage  us — when  our  thoughts  wan- 
der as  they  list,  then  this  strong  man  draws  near,  bends  his  bow, 
and  seeks  to  inject  his  poison  into  the  heart ;  and  when  we 
hunger  or  thirst — when  there  spring  up  in  us  desires  for  this  or 
that  object,  for  gold  or  bread,  for  rest  or  honor,  ease  or  plea- 
sure— when  wishes  mount  high  in  the  heart,  even  though  in 
themselves  they  are  not  censurable,  then  is  he  right  at  hand 
— friendly  and  insinuating — proffering  us  one  good  advice  after 
another — suggesting  to  us  means  upon  means  for  gratifying  our 
wishes  : — and,  however  opposed  to  God  these  propositions  may  be 
in  themselves,  yet  he  understands  how  to  adorn  and  color  them, 
and  how  to  bring  them  into  such  seeming  harmony  with  the  word 
of  God,  that  we  take  them  for  the  promptings  of  some  good 
angel  ;  when,  after  all,  it  was  none  else  than  Satan  in  an  angel's 
form. 

This  unfathomable  mystery  of  iniquity,  art,  and  malice,  in 
Satan,  has  never  been  so  apparent  as  in  just  those  temptations 
with  which  he  assaulted  the  Saviour.  Then  Christ  could  be 
tempted?    Yes,  and  not   this   merely — Paul  says,    "He  was 


220  FKED.    WM.    KKUMMACHER. 

tempted  on  all  points  like  as  we  are."  Luther  translates  it 
"  Everywhere."  The  hand  of  the  dear  good  man  might  have 
trembled,  perhaps,  at  the  thought  of  writing  it  "  in  all  points." 
Out  of  holy  timidity  and  deep  awe,  he  therefore  rather  chose  to 
write  "  Everywhere."  Our  Saviour  appeared,  as  the  Scripture 
saith,  "in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh,"  i.e.  in  human  nature 
weakened  by  the  fall.  All  the  consequences  of  sin  passed  over 
on  Him,  save  sin  itself.  He  was  tempted,  yet  without  sm.  The 
innocent  impulses  and  weaknesses  of  our  nature  were  also  His 
inheritance.  He  hungered  and  thirsted.  He  could  become  weary 
and  sleepy  ;  He  could  weep  and  rejoice,  need  rest  and  refresh- 
ment, etc.  These  infirmities  and  necessities,  blameless  in  them- 
selves, the  tempter  thought  to  use  as  handles  on  which  to  lay 
hold,  and  lead  away  our  Lord  from  his  divinely  appointed  path. 
He  proposed  to  Him  ways  and  means  for  satisfying  these  wants, 
which  were  by  no  means  God's  ways  or  means.  Had  the 
Saviour  adopted  these  measures,  yea,  had  he  even  cherished  the 
remotest  desire  to  do  so,  then  would  Satan's  monstrous  design 
have  succeeded.  The  Lamb  would  have  had  a  spot  ;  the  Priest 
a  blemish  ;  the  offering  would  have  been  unavailable  ;  the  whole 
plan  of  salvation  forever  broken  up,  and  all  of  us  immediately 
consigned  to  hell.  Oh,  how  much  was  there  at  stake  in  the  wil- 
derness !  What  an  incalculably  weighty  and  momentous  oc- 
currence is  the  temptation  of  Jesus  !  With  what  utmost  ten- 
sion of  soul  should  we  look  for  the  further  development  and  issue 
of  this  event  I 


4. 

DISCOURSE   X. 

THE  ONSET  AND  THE  ARMS  IN  THE  TEMPTATION. 

"  Then  was  Jesus  Ud  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil,'* 
etc. — Matt.  iv.  4-11. 

We  come  now  to  the  first  onset. 

The  tempter  bad  waited  a  favorable  moment  for  his  opening 
assault.  Jesus  was  an  hungered  ;  then  slips  he  before  Him,  and 
says  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones 
be  made  bread."  This  was  the  first  attack,  by  which  the  tempter 
designed,  partly  to  make  sure  regarding  the  person  of  Jesus, 
and  partly,  in  case  He  were  really  the  Lord  from  heaven,  to 
annihilate  at  a  stroke  His  whole  sacrificial  work.  The  Devil's 
aim  w^as,  if  possible,  first  of  all,  to  stain  the  pure  soul  of  Christ 
with  the  sin  of  unbelief,  as  in  Paradise  he  began  his  assault  with 
—a  "  Yea,  hath  God  said,"  in  order  to  cause  our  first  parents 
to  stumble  at  God's  command  ;  so  also  here.  The  "  If  thou  be 
the  Son  of  God,"  is  at  bottom  nothing  else  than  a  "  Yea,  hath 
God  said  ?"  in  disguise.  It  is  an  attempt  to  make  the  Lord 
doubt  the  testimony  which  He  had  received  from  the  Father  at 
His  baptism. 

Now,  just  observe,  once  for  all,  the  monstrous,  unexampled 
cunning  of  the  tempter.  In  that  single  word,  "  If  thou  be  the 
Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be  made  bread,"  he  sets 
before  our  Saviour,  not  one,  but  countless  snares  and  traps — 
each  one  more  hidden  and  dangerous  than  the  other.    "  Either, 

221 


222  FEED.    WM.    KEUMMACHEK. 

thought  the  devil,  if  He  is  the  Son  of  God,  He  will  now  err  in 
regard  to  His  Sonship,  and  the  witness  of  God,  deeming  it  utterly 
improbable  that  God  could  suffer  His  child  thus  to  starve  and 
be  put  to  shame  amid  the  stones  and  fruitless  thorns  of  a  wilder- 
ness, and  so  will  His  soul  be  defiled  with  unbelief  ;  Or,"  thought 
the  artful  one,  "  He  will  cast  off  the  veil  before  me,  and  in  His 
eagerness  to  convince  me  of  His  Sonship  by  a  miracle,  will  He 
act  counter  to  the  purpose  of  God,  whose  decree  it  is,  that  He 
should  be  poor,  and  suffer,  and  empty  Himself  of  His  glory,  in 
order  to  expiate  Adam's  sin.  But  should  I  not  succeed,  imag- 
ined the  devil  again,  in  moving  Him  to  forsake  the  path  of 
poverty,  and  to  step  out  of  His  humiliation  in  order  to  disclose 
His  real  dignity  to  me  and  others,  yet,  perhaps,  the  stress  of 
hungering  nature  will  urge  Him  to  follow  my  proposal.  He  will 
deem  it  pardonable  to  employ  the  power  which  God  has  given 
Him,  in  rescuing  Himself  from  starvation  ;  He  will  convert  the 
stones  into  bread  ;  by  self-help  will  He  raise  Himself  superior  to 
His  sufferings, — and  so  put  from  His  lips  that  cup  of  bitterness, 
without  draining  which  no  atonement  is  possible." 

Such  were  the  devil's  thoughts.  He  hoped,  that  though  Jesus 
might  escape  His  first  snare.  He  would  yet  be  caught  in  the 
second  or  the  third.  And  in  fact,  no  plan  could  have  been  more 
adroitly  devised  and  set.  Without  a  miracle  of  preservation, 
the  Holiest  here  would  have  fallen.  The  slighest  trace  of  sin, 
had  it  existed  in  Jesus,  would  now  have  sprung  forth  to  the 
light ;  and  shown  itself.  But  no  !  not  the  slightest  particle  of 
dust  discolors  the  white  linen  of  His  innocence.  He  stands 
alone  in  the  field — no  one  supports — no  one  protects  Him.  Never- 
theless He  breaks  all  the  lances  of  the  foe  victoriously — the 
devil  is  beaten — Jesus  triumphs. 

The  temptation  to  turn  stones  to  bread,  is  one  of  the  com- 
monest in  our  every  day  life — something  of  it  is  experienced  by 
all  the  children  of  God  in  one  way  or  another.  There  are 
brethren  among  us — I  mean  brethren  in  the  Lord — who  are 
required  to  fast  in  these  times     They  have  no  work,  no  wages, 


THE   ONSET   AND   THE   ARMS   IN    THE   TEMPTATION.       223 

and  arc  driven  to  much  anxiety  for  their  daily  bread.  Brethren, 
ye  sit  among  the  stones  and  brambles  of  the  wilderness,  and  are 
"  an  hungered."  It  would  be  a  miracle  if  the  tempter  did  not 
steal  up  to  you  also  with  an  "  Art  thou  indeed  a  child  of  God, 
that  He  should  let  you  starve  thus  ?"  and  then  again  with  the  sug- 
gestion— "  Speak  to  those  stones  that  they  be  made  bread."  Most 
strange  would  it  be,  if  he  did  not  also  come  to  you  with  his 
varied  proposals — such  as,  "  Fawn  and  flatter  that  thou  may  est 
obtain  favor  and  employment" — or  "deceive  and  lie  that  thou 
mayest  make  money  ;  adopt  this  or  that  iniquitous  trade,  and 
save  thyself  from  starvation  ;''  or  "  throw  thyself  on  the  side  of 
scoffers  and  enemies  of  the  cross  that  they  may  support  thee  " — 
or  "  buy  into  a  lottery  that  thou  mayest  share  its  good  luck," 
or  whatever  other  ways  he  may  point  out  to  you.  All  this  means 
nothing  else  than — "  Command  that  these  stones  be  made  bread."  ; 
But,  my  brethren,  let  stones  be  stones, — and  remain  stones,  and 
look  for  your  bread  to  Him  who  has  promised  to  give  it  you, — 
yea,  who  has  promised  to  give  you  greater  things  than  this. 
God — who  has  numbered  the  very  hairs  of  your  head — will  let 
none  of  His  little  children  be  put  to  shame.  Is  it  not  far  better 
to  fast  and  starve  in  the  name  of  God,  than  to  see  good  days  in 
the  name  of  the  devil  ?  Your  fastings  will  have  an  end,  when 
they  shall  have  worked  out  for  your  salvation  that  which  God 
has  decreed.  Be  of  good  cheer,  then.  Ye  are  wandering  in  the 
wilderness,  in  order  to  behold  the  faithfulness  and  the  glory  of 
God,  which  is  more  clearly  seen  in  the  wild  and  arid  desert,  than 
in  the  fat  lands. 

There  are  souls  among  us  who  obtain  from  their  Christianity 
nothing  but  shame  and  contempt — and  have  but  little  joy  or 
refreshment.  It  would  be  a  wonder,  dear  friends,  if  Satan  did 
not  mix  himself  therein, — either  to  make  you  despise  Christianity 
altogether,  or  to  display  to  you  in  the  world  and  its  objects 
those  pleasures  which  you  find  not  in  God.  Brethren,  it  is  the 
devil  who  thus  counsels,  and  would  fain  induce  you  to  convert 
the  stones  of  your  sufferings  and  joylessness  into  bread,  in  obedi- 


224r  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHER. 

euce  to  your  own  caprice,  and  without  the  will  of  Christ.  But 
methinks  we  would  prefer  to  this — if  it  must  be  so — to  spend 
the  few  days  of  this  life  in  the  desert  with  Christ,  or  to  lie  in 
the  furnace,  and  then  to  share  in  his  glory  :  while  w^e  gladly 
leave  the  convict's  farewell-meal,  which  the  devil  might  have 
prepared  for  us,  to  those  w^ho  appear  to  take  pleasure  in  the 
prospect  of  burning  and  howling  with  their  dark  chief  in  the 
lake  of  fire  for  ever  and  ever. 

"  The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  Satan,"  be  our  war  cry,  as  often  as 
we  hear  this  dragon  crawling  in  our  neighborhood.  God  be 
praised,  since  the  true  Michael  fought  and  overcame  him,  his 
power  over  us  is  at  an  end.  He  may,  indeed,  buffet  us  with 
blows,  and  try  to  trip  us  up  also,  so  that  we  may  even  at  times 
come  near  reeling  and  falling  ;  but,  ruin  us — this  can  he  never  ; 
and  although  he  may  lurk  around  our  tent, — "  this  roaring  lion, 
seeking  whom  he  may  devour," — yet  has  he  a  ring  in  his  nose  and 
a  chain  about  his  neck.  Our  Prince  and  Captain  holds  him  fast, 
and  marks  the  limits  to  w^hich  he  may  go.  Only  let  us,  on  our 
part,  fence  ourselves  around  with  the  wounds  of  Jesus.  In  this 
fortress  we  are  safe,  and  here  we  may  joyfully  sing  : 

The  Prince  of  this  world 
May  rage  as  he  will, 
In  naught  shall  he  harm  us, 
His  doom  he  will  seal. 
One  word  from  our  Jesus 
Can  level  him  low, 
Can  rescue  his  followers 
And  prostrate  their  foe. 

Behold  now  the  weapon  with  which  Jesus  achieved  his  victory. 
It  was  the  word  of  God.  One  simple  and  believing  "  It  is 
written,"  and  the  devil  is  vanquished,  his  assault  frustrated. 

The  Bible  is  the  arsenal  for  God's  warriors,  the  spiritual  ar- 
mory, whose  walls  are  overlaid  with  shields  and  coat  of  mail, 
and  glisten  and  flash  with  swords  and  spears.     Every  one  who 


THE   ONSET   AND   TIFR   ARMS   IN   THE   TEIMPTATION.      225 

has  at  any  time  gained  a  spiritual  victory,  lias  armed  himself 
here  for  the  strife.  Whenever  a  spiritual  Goliath  has  fallen  to 
the  earth  defeated,  the  smooth  stones  which  shattered  his 
temples,  were  here  selected.  He  who  frequents  this  armory 
will  give  tbe  devil  something  to  do.  Satan  dreads  these  wea- 
pons of  the  Divine  word,  and  ever  since  the  world  began,  has 
he  been  considering  how  he  might  empty  or  close  up  this  armory 
of  the  Scriptures — spike  this  dangerous  artillery — and  shiver 
these  lances.  What  has  this  sly  sophist  not  tried  ?  What  has 
he  not  dug  up,  and  brought  to  market,  in  order  to  involve  the 
word  of  God  in  suspicion  and  contempt,  and  rob  it  of  the  re- 
spect due  to  an  unerring  oracle  ?  AVhat  accursed  lies  has  he 
not  put  in  circulation,  respecting  the  origin  and  authenticity  of 
the  Bible,  under  the  spacious  title  of  exjposition  1  There  is  not  a 
single  book  in  the  Scripture  at  which  he  has  not  shaken  his  head 
— not  a  miracle  which  he  has  not  wished  to  stamp  as  fable — not 
a  promise  which  he  has  not  sought  to  invalidate  or  destroy. 
And  still  he  is  ever  busy,  be  it  through  his  instruments  and  ser- 
vants— or  through  false  prophets — professors  or  other  evil  agents 
— or  be  it  in  his  own  person  by  direct  suggestion.  He  is  still 
ever  busy  in  misleading  us  in  reference  to  the  infallibility  of  the 
Divine  word  ;  for  this  word  is  his  destruction.  But  spit  him  in 
the  face — this  accursed  dog — and  turn  your  back  on  him,  wlien 
he  opens  his  mouth — for  he  is  a  murderer  and  a  liar  from  the 
beginning — yea,  the  father  of  lies. 

But  do  you  ask  in  wdiat  way  God's  word  can  render  such  re- 
markable service  in  temptations  ?  I  will  tell  you.  Whenever 
the  devil  would  catch  and  mislead,  his  first  and  chief  care  is  to 
confuse  our  ideas.  What  is  wrong  he  represents  as  right ;  what 
is  human  as  divine  ;  what  is  evil  as  good.  The  truth  he  seeks  to 
turn  into  a  lie,  and  a  lie  into  the  truth  ;  and  when  he  has  thus 
betrayed  and  blinded  us,  we  do  his  will,  perhaps  under  the  idea 
that  we  are  doing  what  is  really  good.  But  this  nefarious 
witchcraft  of  his  can  never  succeed,  if  we  abide  faithfully  by 
God's   word.      This   word   will   guard  us  from  all  error   and 

JO* 


226  FRED.    WM.    KRUMMACHER. 

treachery.  In  the  most  unequivocal  manner  it  declares  to  us 
what  is  right,  and  what  is  wrong  ;  what  is  true,  and  what 
is  fiilse  ;  and  what  in  each  particular  instance  we  ought  to  do,  or 
say,  or  think,  according  to  the  will  of  God. 

A  few  illustrations  will  make  this  clear.  The  devil,  for  ex- 
ample, wishes  to  corrupt  the  work  of  the  Gospel  minister  and 
weaken  his  preaching.  He  begins  slily.  He  suggests  to  the 
preacher,  that  he  should  preach  a  little  smoother  ;  that  he 
should  make  the  way  not  quite  so  narrow,  the  gate  not  quite  so 
strait  ;  that  by  this  means  he  would  keep  on  good  terms  with  the 
congregation  ;  indeed,  that  many  whom  he  now  only  irritates, 
would  be  thus  more  readily  won  to  the  truth  ;  and  so,  with 
whatever  plausible  argument  he  can  present,  the  deceiver  labors 
to  support  his  proposal.  If  now  the  preacher  is  left  to  his  own 
reflection,  and  has  no  other  shield  than  his  own  judgment,  then 
is  he  already  caught,  and  the  fiend's  proposal  will  seem  reason- 
able ;  for  the  devil  is  more  cunning  than  he.  But  if  he  plants 
himself  by  faith  on  God's  word — if  he  can  bclievingly  retort : 
"  It  is  written,  '  Strait  is  the  gate  and  narrow  is  the  way  which 
leadeth  unto  life  ;'  again  it  is  written,  '  Cursed  be  he  who 
preaches  another  Gospel  than  that  has  been  preached  ;' "  what 
will  the  devil  do  then  ?  This  bold  stand  upon  God's  word — 
this  believing  "  It  is  written,"  is  an  artillery  discharge  which 
Satan  cannot  resist,  and  which  compels  him  to  retreat  on  the 
spot. 

Another  example.  The  devil  would  fain  rob  you  of  the  be- 
lief, that  Christianity  is  the  only  way  to  salvation.  And  how 
does  he  proceed  ?  Very  craftily — very  warily.  He  leads  you  in 
the  spirit  up  into  a  high  mountain,  and  then  from  the  summit  he 
points  out  to  you  the  millions  of  souls,  who,  in  heathen  and 
in  Christian  lands,  are  living  without  Christ ;  and  then  he 
begins  his  discourse:  "  Tell  me,"  he  says,  "are  all  these  to  be 
indeed  lost  ?  Surely  neither  your  reason,  nor  your  hearts,  will 
ever  affirm  this.  Yet  they  do  not  believe  in  Jesus,  at  least,  as 
you  and  your  denomination  do.      Can,   then,  Christ  be   actu- 


THE    ONSET   AND   THE   ARMS    IN   THE   TEMPTATION.      227 

ally  the  only  way  'i  Can  that,  which  you  call  the  new  l)irth,  be 
the  absolute  condition  of  salvation  ?  Would  it  not  be  the 
height  of  bigotry  and  narrowmindedness  to  think  thus  of  man's 
eternal  well  being  ?"  So  the  -devil  now,  if  you  are  out  upon  the 
field,  fortified  by  reason  only,  you  surely  will  not  escape  this 
snare  ;  you  will  yield  to  the  devil's  sopbistr,y,  and  he  will  boast 
of  having  made  the  ground  whereon  you  stand,  rock  beneath 
your  feet  with  an  easy  effort.  But,  on  the  contrary,  if  you  can 
grasp  the  weapons  of  God's  word,  if  you  can  boldly  confront 
the  tempter  with  some  saying  of  God,  and  declare  to  him  in 
faith  :  "  It  is  written,  '  Verily,  verily,  except  a  man  be  born  again 
he  cannot  see  the  kingdon  of  God  ;'"  "It  ia  written,  'I  am  the 
way,  the  truth,  and  the  life,  no  man  can  come  unto  tlie  Father 
but  by  me  ;'"  "  It  is  written,  '  Few  there  be  that  go  in  thereat 
— fow  are  chosen  ;' "  if  you  can,  I  say,  grasp  such  divine  declar- 
ations believingly,  then  is  the  devil  instantly  beaten  and  his  net 
torn.  He  will  cease  trying  to  convince  you  that  Christ  is 
not  the  only  ground  of  salvation  ;  or  else  he  must  hope  to  be 
able  to  discredit  witli  you  the  very  words  on  which  you  ground 
your  defence. 

Take  another  example  still.  The  devil,  say,  would  fain  bring 
you  back  into  the  world.  How  does  he  go  to  work  ?  He  insi- 
nuates himself  into  your  presence,  and  begins  to  remonstrate 
against  your  excluding  yourself  so  entirely  from  society,  and 
shunning  the  company  of  those  of  a  different  persuasion — a 
course,  as  he  suggests,  not  at  all  in  accordance  with  a  Christian 
love  of  your  neighbor.  He  would  have  you  occasionally  attend 
fashionable  parties,  in  order  to  let  your  light  shine,  and  prove 
to  people  that  Christianity  is  far  from  making  us  austere  monks 
and  nuns,  but  that  it  rather  renders  men  cheerful  and  social,  so 
that  you  may  in  this  way  win  them  to  the  Gospel.  Nay,  he 
would  go  farther,  and  under  the  pretext  of  exercising  yourself 
unto  godliness,  and  so  becoming  strong,  he  would  have  you  not 
withdraw  from  the  world  at  all,  inasmuch  as  it  would  cost  no 
effort  to  remain  holy,  when  there  were  no  solicitations  or  provo- 


228  FEED.    WM.    KETIMlMACnEE. 

cations  to  sin  ;  but  lie  would  have  you  face  evil  in  the  eye,  and 
say  unto  it,  "  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  thee  " — an  exploit 
this,  he  would  say,  which  would  "  be  to  the  point."  Thus  does 
Satan  argue,  and  this  pleases  the  old  Adam  in  us  well.  Now,  if 
you  trust  your  own  wits  in  disputing  with  him,  then  rely  upon  it, 
you  will  be  the  lo^er — Satan  will  soon  get  the  advantage,  and 
hold  the  field.  No  doctor  or  professor  knows  how  to  argue  like 
him.  He  can  make  the  sheerest  absurdities  appear  plausible  and 
convincing.  But  if  ycu  can,  on  the  other  hand,  firmly  encounter 
him  with  a  word  of  God  ;  if  you  can,  for  example,  in  this 
last  instance,  say  to  him,  "  It  is  written,  'Be  not  conformed  to 
this  world,' "  then  is  he  at  once  disabled,  and  you  have  struck 
the  sword  from  his  grasp. 

Thus  is  the  word  of  God,  when  it  is  laid  hold  of  in  faith,  and 
skillfully  handled,  a  mighty  *'  sword  of  the  Spirit,"  as  the  apostle 
calls  it,  whereby  we  can  slay  the  old  dragon.  ''  Yes,"  as  one  has 
baid,  ''  the  ten  commandments,  when  they  are  fairly  written  in 
our  hearts,  and  uttered  against  him  boldly,  are  sufficient  to  drive 
him  utterly  away.  They  are  like  ten  Samson-shouts,  or  like 
ten  Michael-swords  against  the  roaring  lion." 

Now,  how  did  the  Lord  prevail  ?  Satan  counselled  Him 
to  make  l^read  of  stones,  and  thus,  by  His  own  exertion,  relieve 
himself  from  the  pangs  of  hunger.  This  was  a  most  insidious 
and  taking  proposal,  as  you  have  seen.  There  was,  speaking 
after  the  manner  of  men,  much  to  induce  Jesus  to  comply  with 
it  ;  and  had  He  done  so,  you  are  aware  that  the  whole  work  of 
atonement  would  have  been  frustrated.  But  He  did  not  com- 
ply. He  let  the  stones  be  stones,  and  hungered  on.  And  what 
restrained  Him  from  following  the  specious  advice  of  the 
unknown  stranger  ?  It  was  a  word  of  God.  His  inward  eye 
fell  on  the  passage  (Deut.  viii.  3),  and,  seizing  this  by  faitli,  He 
opposed  it  to  the  tempter.  "  It  is  written,  *  Man  shall  not  live 
by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  proccedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God.' "  In  this  declaration  He  found  motive  sufficient 
to  suffer  hunger  yet  another  forty  days  and  forty  nights — yea, 


THE    ONSET   AND   THE   AEMS    IN   THE   TEMPTATION.      220 

longer,  if  needs  be,  rather  than  anticipate  the  help  of  the  Father 
by  any  distrustful  attempt  at  self-deliverance.  "  The  Father  can 
sustain  me  without  bread  ;  He  has  led  me  into  this  wilderness — 
I  can  trust  in  Him."  Such  was  his  thought,  and  truly  it  proved 
an  impenetrable  coat  of  mail  around  his  breast.  Now  must 
Satan  take  heart,  and  devise  other  schemes.  All  prospect  of 
inducing  Him  to  self-deliverance,  and  to  the  throwing  off  of  that 
which  He,  as  our  surety,  was  obhged  to  endure,  in  expiation 
of  Adam's  sin — had  entirely  vanished.  It  is  plain,  Jesus  believed 
the  divine  word,  that  God  could  feed  Him  in  extreme  famine 
without  food — could  refresh  Him  without  drink,  and  by  the 
mere  word  of  His  mouth  could  nourish  and  support  Him  effec- 
tually. Against  this  faith,  as  against  an  iron  bulwark,  all  the 
lances  of  the  devil  were  necessarily  shivered. 

The  words  with  which  Jesus  overcame  the  temptation  arc 
recorded,  as  was  said,  in  Deut.  viii.  3.  Moses  there,  on  the  very 
borders  of  the  promised  land,  sets  forth  to  the  children  of  Israel, 
according  to  the  divine  direction,  how  the  Lord  had  led  them 
along  in  mercy  and  faithfulness  for  the  space  of  forty  years. 
*'  He  humbled  thee,"  he  says,  "  and  suffered  thee  to  hunger,  and 
fed  thee  with  manna  when  thou  knowest  not,  neither  did  thy 
fathers  know,  that  He  might  make  thee  know  that  man  doth  not 
live  by  bread  only,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Lord."  Yes,  the  Lord  needs  neither  mills  nor 
ovens,  to  support  His  children  ;  He  can  rain  bread  on  them  out 
of  the  clouds,  as  He  did  in  the  wilderness.  He  can  give  His 
children  bread  during  the  night,  while  they  sleep.  So  did  He  at 
Cherith  (1  Kings,  xvii.  5),  so  at  Zarephath  to  the  widow  (1 
Kings,  xvii.  10),  and  so  in  many  other  places.  For  Him  it  is  an 
easy  thing  to  do  this.  And  this  outward  material  bread,  which 
He  gives  us — this  is  not  that  which  nourishes  us,  and  whereon 
our  life  depends  ;  but  that  which  properly  nourishes,  and 
strengthens,  and  preserves  us  in  every  case,  is  His  word,  His 
will,  His  blessing,  and  that  hidden  power  which  He  adds  to 
the  external  means.     Because  He  wills  that  it  nourish  us,  there- 


230  FKED.    WM.    KKUMMACHEE. 

fore  does  the  bread  we  eat  nourish  us  ;  and,  as  soon  as  He  ceases 
to  will  it,  we  may  knead,  and  season,  and  bake  as  we  may,  it  is 
all  of  no  avail ;  we  waste  away,  and  our  strength  decays  in  the 
midst  of  superfluities. 

Since  then,  the  nutritive  power  lies  not  in  the  bread,  but  in 
the  will  and  word  of  God  alone,  it  will  readily  be  seen  how 
with  five  loaves  and  two  fishes,  He  could  perfectly  satisfy  five 
thousand  men  ;  how  by  means  of  a  single  barley-cake  He  could 
sustain  Elijah  forty  days  and  forty  nights  ;  yea,  how  He  satisfies 
and  preserves  many  a  poor  family  now,  who,  besides  a  morsel  of 
dry  bread  in  the  morning  and  in  the  evening,  scarcely  see  any 
other  food  during  the  day.  The  Lord  needs  no  bread  at  all  for 
our  sustenance,  if  He  does  not  will  it.  His  bare  words,  "  let 
him  live,"  is  enough — and  we  live.  Without  bread,  Moses  was 
maintained  at  Sinai — Jesus  in  the  wilderness — and  many  more. 
He  needs  but  to  speak,  and  the  very  air  we  breathe  turns 
to  milk  and  wine,  and  we  eat  the  costliest  dainties — we  imbibe 
pure  vigor  and  strength  without  opening  our  lips,  without  sit- 
ting at  table,  without  reaching  out  our  hand.  This  is  what  is 
meant  by  "  Man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word 
that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God."  In  times  of  perse- 
cution, thousands  of  God's  children  have  experienced  this  in  its 
most  literal  sense  ;  the  believing  poor  continually  experience  it 
still  ;  it  is  as  true  as  there  is  a  God  in  heaven. 

Therefore,  let  every  sufferer  among  us  lay  hold  of  this  truth, 
that  it  may  protect  him  from  fear  and  despair,  and  be  his  shield 
and  breast-plate  against  the  attacks  and  temptations  of  the 
wicked  one.  It  has  pleased  our  gracious  God  to  bring  many  of 
His  dear  children  into  great  distlress.  Everything  now  begins 
to  fail — bread  and  fuel — work  and  wages,  and,  perhaps,  even 
prospects  and  credit.  They  are  truly  in  the  wilderness  among 
stones,  and  there  is  much  of  sighing  by  day  and  by  night. 
Steal  and  cheat  they  will  not — God  will  mercifully  keep  them 
from  that.  But  the  devil  will  gain  much  if  but  the  thought 
finds  room,  "  we  arc  forsaken  of  God,  and  must  now  see  how 


THE   ONSET   AND   THE   ARMS   IN   THE   TEMPTATION.      231 

we  cau  shift  for  ourselves."  Great  will  be  liis  success  the 
moment  we  are  betrayed  into  unbelieving  anxiety  and  care  as 
to  "  what  we  shall  eat,  or  what  we  shall  drink,  or  wherewithal 
we  shall  be  clothed  ;"  or  even  should  the  thought  occur,  "  God 
is  intimating  to  us  through  our  necessities,  that  we  must  help 
ourselves,  either  by  some  daring  speculation  and  by  gambling 
and  fraud,  or  by  some  other  unlawful  methods."  Then,  indeed, 
I  say,  would  the  tempter  have  made  a  great  advance.  But,  my 
afflicted  brethren,  concede  to  the  arch-accuser  no  such  triumph. 
Meet  him  with  the  weapon  which  your  Master  employed,  and 
which  has,  from  this  fact,  received  a  peculiar  consecration,  sanc- 
tity, and  power  ;  and  say  in  faith,  "  It  is  written,  '  Man  shall  not 
live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of 
the  mouth  of  God.  "'  This  is  the  truth.  Hold  fast  to  this  ; 
build  thereon — and  wait,  only  wait  a  little  in  the  wilderness, 
and  surely  God  will  not  desert  you. 

There  are  brethren  among  us,  and  I  could  call  them  by 
name,  who  have  been  in  greater  straits  than  yourselves.  But 
they  believed  that  word  without  misgiving — and,  in  this  faith, 
they  have  resolutely  and  without  ceremony  shown  the  devil  the 
door  as  often  as  he  has  approached  with  his  accursed  counsels, 
and  they  have  hoped  in  the  Lord.  Now  their  mouth  is  filled 
with  laughter.  Not  for  mountains  of  gold  and  silver  would  they 
barter  the  experiences  which  they  have  gathered  during  their  des- 
titution in  the  wilderness.  They  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
and  become  living  witnesses  to  the  truth  that  "man  does  not  live 
by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the 
mouth  of  God." 

"  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be 
made  bread  !"  Thus  spake  the  devil.  He  required  Jesus  to 
prove  His  sonship.  But  Jesus  chose  rather  to  leave  this  to  His 
Heavenly  Father.  Oh,  my  brethren,  would  that  ye  even  so  might, 
in  all  cases,  leave  the  proof  of  your  sonship  quietly  to  the  Lord- 
He  will  make  it  known  that  you  are  His  children  ;  not  perhaps 
by   letting  you  live  in  homes  of  plenty,  but  yet  no  less  ccr- 


232  FEED.    WM.    KRrMMACHEE. 

tainlj,  by  maintaming  jou  in  the  midst  of  the  wilderness — causing 
you  to  sing  among  stones  and  juniper  trees,  and  nourishing  you, 
without  bread,  by  the  bare  word  which  proceedeth  out  of  His 
mouth. 

Witness  now,  the  secoxd  attack.  The  first  attempt  of  the 
devil  against  Jesus  failed.  He  could  not  yet  know  whether 
Jesus  was  the  Son  of  God  ;  and,  if  He  were,  the  temptation 
had  not  turned  Him  aside  one  finger's  breadth  from  His  media- 
torial course.  Satan  now  prepares  for  a  second  assault.  He 
taketh  Jesus  up  into  the  holy  city,  and  setteth  Him  on  a  pin- 
nacle of  the  temple.  Shall  we  say  only  in  a  vision  ?  No, 
bodily,  as  the  letter  of  the  narrative  constrains  us  to  believe. 
In  some  supernatural  way,  Jesus  was  caught  up,  and  trans- 
ported in  a  moment  through  the  air  into  the  holy  city,  and 
then,  quick  as  lightning,  buoyed  up  to  the  flat  roof  of  a  side- 
portico  of  the  Temple  overhanging  the  mountain.  The  same 
power  which  the  Holy  Spirit  afterwards  exerted  on  Philip, 
was  here  loaned  to  the  Evil  spirit  by  God.  As  an  eagle  with 
his  prey,  so  did  the  prince  of  darkness  soar  away  with  the  Lord 
of  glory.  It  was  an  awful,  frightful  procedure — but  the  most 
awful  things  was  Christ  willing  to  experience  and  feel,  and,  to 
the  most  appalling  things  surrender  himself,  that  He  might  drain 
to  the  dregs  the  cup  of  our  curse,  and  leave  not  a  farthing  of  our 
debt  unpaid.  He  was  willing  to  become  the  sport  of  the  spirits 
of  hell,  in  order  that  we,  accursed  ones,  might  be  borne  in  the 
tender  hands  of  the  angels  of  God  into  Abraham's  bosom.  But 
was  Jesus  aware  that  it  was  the  devil  with  whom  He  had  to 
deal  ?  I  think  not ;  by  the  divine  decree  was  this  fact  still 
hid  from  Him,  in  order  that  the  temptation  might  be  the  more 
severe — and,  also,  the  triumph  more  meritorious  and  brilliant. 

Jesus  stands  on  the  high  Temple-roof — Satan  at  His  side — 
and  beneath  their  feet  a  dizzy  abyss.  Far  below  lies  the  city — 
and  deeper  yet,  in  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  flows  the  brook 
Kedron — shrunk  to  a  slender  thread — and  well-nigh  impercept- 


TITE   ONSET   AND   THE   AEMS   IN   THE   TEMrTATION.      233 

ible — Satan  wears  the  aspect  of  a  well-meaning  friend,  who 
heartily  holds  with  Jesus,  and  who,  in  case  He  were  the  Son  of 
God,  prosecutes  the  same  cause  with  Ilim,  and  is  anxious  for 
nothing  so  much  as  that  the  work  of  Redemption  might  be  com- 
pleted as  speedily  as  possible.  He  points  to  the  frightful  depth 
below  and  says — "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself  down." 
It  is  possible  he  added  yet  more,  and  perchance  to  the  following 
effect  :  "  See,  I  would  gladly  know  if  thou  art  the  Son  of  God. 
I  only  wait  for  assurance  in  order  to  bow  my  knees  at  once,  and 
yield  Thee  homage — nor  am  I  the  only  one,  who  is  anxiously 
looking  for  the  full  disclosure  of  Thy  person  and  dignity.  Thou 
wilt  become  the  king  and  commander  of  a  great  people  as  soon 
as  Thou  art  pleased  to  display  Thy  royal  majesty.  Now,  behold  ; 
here  is  your  opportunity.  Leap  from  this  height  and  land  safely 
below.  A  miracle  like  this  will  astonish  the  world.  It  will  leave 
no  doubt  of  Thy  majesty,  and  at  once  all  knees  will  bend  into 
the  dust.  Thou  wilt  be  as  a  God — and  not  only  others,  but 
Thou  Thyself  also,  wilt  then  assuredly  know  that  Thou  art  the 
Messiah,  and  that  God  has  not  forsaken  Thee,  as  Thy  starving 
in  the  wilderness  has  appeared  from  the  beginning  to  indicate." 
Something  of  this  sort  the  devil  might  have  added,  and,  in 
order  to  effect  his  object  the  more  surely,  he  calls  to  mind  the 
glorious  promise  of  the  91st  Psalm,  which  was  given  to  Him  pre- 
eminently :  "  He  shall  give  His  angels  charge  concerning  thee, 
and  they  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands,  lest  at  any  time 
thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone."  In  fact,  the  plan  was 
cunningly  contrived  and  the  temptation  pressing.  The  tempter 
here  truly  assumed  the  aspect  of  a  well-meaning  angel,  and  his 
proposal  seemed  pious,  and  good  and  suitable. 

Now,  then,  there  stands  the  Lord  upon  the  giddy  height  ; 
and  what  will  He  do  ?  One  step  forward — and  He  is  exalted  ; 
the  angels  bear  Him  gently  to  the  bottom  below  ;  the  people 
break  out  into  Hosannas  ;  and  He  becomes  the  admired — the 
wonderful — the  worshipped  ;  but  then,  the  work  of  reconciliation 
is  eternally — eternally  annihilated  ;  for  the  High  Priest  has  left 


234:  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHEE. 

the  sacrificial  path  of  poverty  and  self-denial ;  the  Mediator 
has  contravened  the  plan  and  counsel  of  God  ;  the  Lamb  carries 
a  blemish,  and  it  is  spotted  with  the  sin  of  tempting  God,  and  no 
longer  fit  to  be  the  Paschal  offering.  Oh,  fateful  moment  ! — bnt 
God  be  praised,  Jesus  sees  through  the  satanic  artifice.  He 
knew  indeed,  that  the  angels  would  bear  Him  up.  But,  should 
He  claim  the  power  and  faithfulness  of  God  in  self-chosen  paths 
of  danger  ?  No — no — on  no  account ;  His  holy  soul  shuddered 
at  the  satanic  i^roposal.  One  Bible  text  was  quoted  to  catch 
and  precipitate  Him  if  possible  ;  another  shall  serve  for  a  sup- 
port— a  shield  and  a  lance  :  "  It  is  written  again,  '  Thou  shalt 
not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.' "  He  utters  it — and  the  devil  is 
beaten  a  second  time. 

And  there  are  to  us  Spiritual  Precipices. — In  the  holy  city, 
the  spiritual  Jerusalem,  Satan  still  employs  his  most  cunning  arts, 
and  ma,kes  his  most  wicked  proposals  ;  and  his  most  brilliant 
victories,  of  however  short  duration,  are  usually  achieved  by 
these  means  in  the  same  holy  place.  There  are  still  tempta- 
tions and  spiritual  conditions  occasioned  by  the  devil's  artifice, 
which  closely  resemble  this  transporting  of  our  Lord  to  the  pin- 
nacle of  the  Temple.  There  are  Spiritual  precipices,  I  say.  The 
best  and  happiest  condition  on  earth  is  indisputably  this,  to  cling 
like  a  worm  to  the  feet  of  Jesus — to  dwell  in  craving  poverty  of 
spirit,  like  Lazarus  at  the  rich  man's  gate  ;  and  with  the  Canaan- 
itish  woman  to  desire,  like  a  dog,  the  crumbs  which  fall  from 
the  Lord's  table.  Then  are  we  blessed  ;  then  are  w^e  rich — then 
safe.  But  certainly  this  is  to  spoil  the  devil's  game.  No  wonder, 
then,  that  the  impostor  is  intent  on  nothing  so  much  as  to  decoy, 
by  some  means,  the  children  of  God  out  of  this  state  of  lowli- 
ness and  spiritual  poverty;  and  he  seeks  to  bring  this  to  pass  in 
various  ways. 

Let  me  mention  an  instance  or  two.  Clothed  in  the  form  of 
an  angel  of  light,  he  accosts  you  and  leads  you  into  the  holy 
city  ;  that  is,  he  spreads  out  before  you  all  the  gifts  and  graces, 


THE   ONSET   AND   THE   AKMS   IN   THE   TEMPTATION.      235 

the  rights  and  privileges,  of  which  you,  as  a  member  of  the 
heavenly  kingdom,  have  become  partaker,  so  that  you  think,  in 
fact,  some  good  angel  is  affording  you  this  blissful  prospect. 
Then  the  tempter  selects  from  these  gifts  one — perchance  the 
gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit — and  begins  to  unfold  to  you  all  tliat  you 
possess  in  this  gift  :  how  the  Iloly  Spirit  sanctifies  and  enlightens 
you,  how  he  guides  you  into  all  truth,  how  he  searches  out  the 
deep  things  of  the  Godhead — leads  and  inspires  you — speaks 
and  bears  witness  in  you  ;  and  so  in  every  other  particular  un- 
folds his  work  just  as  it  is.  Then  the  devil  proceeds  yet  further 
— and  endeavors  next  to  convince  you,  that  the  Spii'it  must  also 
be  able  to  reveal  to  you  something  new, — something  which  the 
Bible  contains  only  partially,  or  not  at  all.  From  this  he  goes 
on — and  teaches  you  to  take  some  thoughts  of  your  own  for  the 
suggestions  of  the  Spirit.  He  then  advances  another  step,  and 
pronounces  you  an  inspired  person — one,  who  no  longer  needs 
the  outward  light  in  the  altar,  because  he  has  the  inner  light  ; 
and  alas,  before  you  are  aware,  you  are  vanished  away  to  the 
pinnacle  of  the  tempter,  and  feel  yourself  exalted  above  God's 
word  and  testimony,  the  church,  and  the  sermon.  All  these  objects, 
together  with  the  entire  Jerusalem  of  the  remaining  believers,  you 
see  lying  far  below  your  feet  ;  and  if,  upon  this  giddy  height, 
you  do  not  grow  dizzy — and  finish  by  plunging  headlong  into 
the  frighful  abyss  of  insanity,  you  will  owe  your  preservation  to 
that  almighty  grace  alone,  which  has  saved  you.     Such  were  the 

diabolical  snares  into  which  our  brethren  at  S fell,  who 

would  conform  to  no  order,  nor  suffer  themselves  to  be  directed 
by  God's  word,  but  appealed,  instead,  to  the  Spirit,  who,  as 
they  said,  had  taught  them  other  and  higher  things.  There  may 
be  among  them  some  true  children  of  God,  who  will  yet  return 
to  right  paths,  but  yet  it  must  ever  be  regarded  as  a  sad  and 
awful  perversion.  God  preserve  us  from  such  delusion  I  Seize 
the  words,  my  brethren.  "  It  is  written  :  'But  though  we  or  an 
angel  from  heaven  preach  any  other  Gospel  unto  you,  than  that, 
which  we  have  preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed.'"    "  It  is 


236  FRED.   WM.    KKIJMMACHEE. 

written  :  'Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet'" — such  an  'Ht  is 
written/'  spoken  in  faith,  routs  the  devil. 

When  Satan  is  bafiied  in  one  attempt,  he  tries  another,  and 
ceases  not,  until  every  means  has  been  exhausted.  We  have  seen 
people  of  all  descriptions,  standing  on  dizzy  temple-roofs,  trans- 
ported thither  by  various  methods.  One  is  elated  by  the  pleas- 
ing fancy,  that  for  him  there  is  no  more  any  mystery,  and  it 
seems  as  if  he  had  been  specially  enlightened  of  God,  and  car- 
ried the  key  of  David  in  his  pocket.  In  the  midst  of  his  super- 
abundant knowledge,  the  devil  catches  him,  and  according  to 
his  infernal  exegesis,  explains  to  him  the  clause,  "  Ye  have  an 
unction  from  the  Holy  One,  and  know  all  things."  Another 
fancies  himself  to  be  the  man  who  shall  smite  the  earth  with  the 
sword  of  his  mouth,  and  rule  spirits  with  the  sceptre  of  his 
words,  and  after  whom  none  may  speak.  His  gifts  for  teaching 
and  preaching  have,  through  the  cunning  of  the  devil,  been 
turned  into  a  gin  and  a  snare.  A  third  is  inflated  with  the 
thought,  that  there  is  something  peculiar  in  his  relation  to  God, 
as  if  he  were  seated  in  the  kingdom  of  God  a  couple  of  benches 
higher  than  the  rest  of  us  poor  sinners  ;  and  perhaps  it  was 
from  some  answers  to  prayers  he  had  received,  that  the  devil 
prepared  for  him  the  sweet  intoxication.  A  fourth  has  a  fixed 
idea  that  without  him  the  kingdom  of  God  could  not  exist — that 
he,  apart  from  his  fellows,  is  a  pillar  there — an  apostle — -the 
Elias  of  his  day.  In  his  case  the  blessings  which  God  had  be- 
stowed upon  his  word  and  testimony,  has  been  converted  by  the 
devil's  art  into  a  lime-twig  whereby  he  has  been  caught.  A 
fifth  is  deluded  into  the  belief,  that  all  his  dreams  and  fancies 
are  genuine  divine  visions  and  revelations  ;  and  the  poor  man 
deems  himself  a  seer — a  prophet — a  beholder  of  visions.  To  a 
sixth,  the  devil  presents  some  magic  mirror — and  the  poor  man 
beholds  himself  therein,  with  a  halo  round  his  head  ;  or  the 
devil  sends  him  friends  who  laud,  admire,  and  deify  his  meekness, 
patience,  faith,  and  love  ;  and  thus  the  deluded  spirit  is  beguiled 
])y  degrees,  into  the  notion  that  God  must  have  set  him  up  as  an 
example  of  saintliness  among  men. 


THE   ONSET   AND   THE   AEMS    IN    THE   TEMPTATION.      237 

So  these  are  precipices  ;  thus  it  is  to  be  set  on  the  pinnacle 
of  the  temple.  And  well  would  it  be  if  it  ended  only  here  ;  if 
these  poor  deluded  men  would  stop  with  regarding  themselves 
as  apostles,  saints,  and  martyrs.  But  let  them  only  reach  such 
a  height,  and  they  not  seldom  mount  yet  higher.  It  is  not  all 
who  are  brought  from  thence  safely  down  a  stairway  to  their 
true  place  again  in  the  plain  below.  Many  plunge  themselves 
down  from  these  giddy  heights  into  the  lowest  depths  of  in- 
sanity. Unhappy  instances  of  this  sort  have  existed  at  all 
times — persons  who  have  at  last  given  themselves  out  to  be 
God,  or  Christ  himself,  or  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  and  this  too,  in  the 
very  midst  of  the  holy  city. 

Brethren  abide  in  your  refuge  ;  keep  in  the  dust  :  above  all, 
ye  who  are  rich  in  gifts,  and  apt  to  teach — who  are  respected 
among  your  fellows,  and  speak  publicly  in  assemblies — who  lead 
the  devotions  of  the  church  and  whose  light  shines  brightly  in 
Zion.  Among  such,  the  devil  readily  finds  a  handle  by  which  to 
lay  hold,  and  spirit  them  away  to  lofty  eminences.  Gird  around 
you  for  a  breast-plate,  the  text :  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit, 
for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven."  Set  as  a  helmet  on  your 
head  the  truth  :  ''Whosoever  shall  not  receive  the  kingdom  of 
God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  not  enter  therein."  Take  as  a  sword 
into  your  hand  the  word  :  "  God  resisteth  the  proud,  but  giveth 
grace  unto  the  humble."  And  hold  fast  to  the  belief  that  the 
golden  rose,  Jesus,  bloomed,  not  on  lofty  heights,  but  in  lowly 
vales.  And  if  the  devil  is  seeking  to  urge  you  into  presumptions 
and  bewildering  speculations  upon  unfathomable  mysteries — if  he 
is  alluring  you  into  vain  refinements,  whether  it  be  regarding  the 
Trinity  or  the  idea  of  Eternity — or  the  two  natures  in  Christ — 
or  regarding  any  other  unsearchable  problem,  then  rally  yourself 
and  exclaim,  "  It  is  written,  '  We  know  in  part  and  prophesy  iu 
part  ;  but  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come,  then  that  which  is 
in  part  shall  be  done  away.' "  Tell  him  in  the  name  of  Jesus, 
that  you  desire  to  know  no  more  than  is  needful  for  your  salva-| 
tion.     So  will  you  expel  the  Wicked  One.  ' 


DISCOURSE  XI. 

THE   DEMAND   AND   THE   PROMISED   REWARD. 

"  Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  -svilderness  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil,'* 
etc.,  etc. — Matt.  iv.  1-11. 

That  the  devil  gladly  uses  our  heavenly  sonship  for  the  pur- 
pose of  urging  us  the  more  easily  to  all  sorts  of  ungodly  steps, 
is  a  well  known  fact.  For  instance,  he  may  have  learned  that 
there  yet  lurks  in  your  members  some  bosom  sin,  which  you  have 
not  yet  mastered.  In  this  case  he  leads  you  into  circumstances, 
which  not  only  excite  your  lust,  but  also  give  you  the  means 
of  gratifying  it.  There  you  stand  on  the  verge  of  an  abyss. 
"Cast  thyself  down,"  whispers  the  devil.  You  attempt  to 
escape.  "  Stay,  stay,"  he  adds,  again,  "it  is  so  pleasant  below." 
You  resist.  *'  Cast  thyself  down,"  he  shouts  yet  louder.  You 
tremble  at  the  danger,  but  nevertheless  cannot  break  away. 
You  are  charmed  to  the  spot.  "  Cast  thyself  down,"  once  more 
cries  Satan.  "  Thou  art  a  child  of  God.  Thou  certainly  wilt 
be  pardoned."  He  speaks,  and  if  God  do  not  hold  you  back, 
you  arc  gone.  You  are,  say,  of  an  irritable  temperament,  and 
the  inmates  of  your  home  thwart  your  plans  and  set  all  your 
heart  in  a  foam.  You  would  gladly  retaliate,  but  you  know  not 
whether  you  dare  do  it.  You  are  standing  over  an  abyss. 
"  Cast  thyself  down,"  the  devil  cries.  "  Thou  art  a  child  of  God, 
and  between  God's  children  and  the  world  there  should  be  no 
peace,  but  only  a  sword,  and  separation — gratify  thy  zeal."    He  ^ 

288 


THE  DEMAND  AND  THE  TEOMISED  KEWAKD.     239 

speaks,  and  ere  he  has  uttered  all,  you  are  heaving  with  rage, 
and  hot  breath,  and  are  heaping  sin  on  sin. 

Again  you  are  fast  in  deep  distress,  and  weary  of  life.  Tiicre- 
upon  the  devil  at  once  places  you  on  the  roof  of  your  house,  or 
on  some  steep  rock,  or  on  the  margin  of  some  deep  stream.  Oh, 
God  !  what  a  frightful  precipice  you  are  standing  on  I  **  Cast 
thyself  down,"  whispers  the  wicked  one.  You  would  gladly 
do  it,  but  you  shrink  from  taking  the  leap.  "Why  lingerest 
thou  ?"  continues  the  tempter.  "  Cast  thyself  down.  In  the 
arms  of  death  sleep  is  sweet,  and  all  trouble  is  over."  "  Cast  thy- 
self down.  Thou  art  in  a  state  of  grace,  and  grace  abides, 
and  yields  not  even  though  the  mountains  depart."  "  Cast  thy- 
self down,  and  hasten  to  thy  home,"  says  the  serpent.  Oh,  horri- 
ble !  You  waver — you  look  below.  Your  desire  is  strong — the 
burden  heavy — the  will  is  there.  And  0  great  God  !  if  now  the 
hand  of  divine  piety  does  not  quickly  interpose,  the  leap  is 
taken. 

Satan  proposed  to  our  Lord  Jesus  that  He  should  convince 
the  people  of  His  divine  Sonship,  in  a  sacrilegious  manner,  that 
is,  by  a  voluntary  leap  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple.  With 
like  propositions  does  he  also  sneak  up  to  believers,  "  Your 
Christian  character  is  doubted,"  he  insinuates.  "  People  hesitate 
to  reckon  you  among  the  children  of  God.  Show  them  who  you 
are."  And  now  it  is  high  time  to  seize  the  sword  against  the 
tempter,  and  to  encounter  him  with  the  word,  "The  Lord 
knoweth  them  that  are  His,"  and  with  this  to  remain  satisfied. 
Most  precious  souls  even  are,  in  such  a  case,  often  betrayed  into 
monstrous  errors  ;  this  one  into  shameful  falsehood,  by  boasting 
of  spiritual  experiences  which  he  never  enjoyed  ;  that  one,  into 
the  wicked  forcing  of  the  Spirit,  by  trying  to  beget  in  himself 
such  frames  of  mind  as  the  Lord  alone  can  give  ;  another,  into 
criminal  dissimulation,  by  feigning  an  unction  Avhich  at  the 
moment  is  not  granted  him  ;  another,  into  fatal  perversions,  by 
performing  deeds  in  his  own  name,  and  then  endeavoring  to 
regard  them  as  the  work  of  God's  Spirit,  achieved  through  him. 


240  FEED.    WM.    KKUMMACHEE. 

And  what  abominations  can  be  more  heinous  in  the  sight  of  God 
than  these  ?  How  might  the  devil  scornfully  laugh  when  he  has 
succeeded  in  plunging  the  children  of  God  into  such  filth  as 
this? 

"  Cast  thyself  down,"  said  Satan,  and  he  might  have  added  by 
way  of  motive,  that  He  could  thereby  accelerate  the  execution 
of  the  divine  purposes.  All  too  pleasing  would  it  have  been, 
could  he  but  have  awakened  some  impatience  in  the  heart  of 
Jesus  at  the  tardy  progress  of  His  redemptive  work.  And  oh, 
how  gladly  also  w^ould  he  now  excite  believers  to  like  impatience  ! 
How  eagerly  does  he  spur  them  on  to  perfect  rapidly  their 
sanctification  by  self-imposed  austerities,  and  mount  with  quick 
steps  to  higher  degrees,  and  to  loftier  stages  of  personal  glorifi- 
cation. And  with  what  delight  does  he  call  to  them  in  this 
regard  :  "  Spring  ofi*,  and  choose  the  shortest  way  ;"  for  the 
cunning  cheat  well  knows  that  such  advance  is  retrogression, 
because  it  is  a  turning  aside  from  the  throne  of  grace,  and  from 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ;  and  that  in  such  self-chosen  paths,  no 
angels  will  bear  us  up  in  their  hands,  but  that  there  our  feet  will 
stumble  upon  mere  stones,  and  we  shall  fall  into  nothing  but 
error,  darkness,  pride,  and  self-complacency.  Are  they  witnesses 
and  preachers.  Oh,  how  does  he  rejoice  w'hen  they  begin  to  think 
the  Lord  delays  too  long  to  crown  their  efforts  ;  and  how  gladly 
does  he  foster  this  impatience  in  their  hearts  ;  how  readily  does 
he  call  to  them,  "  Cast  thyself  down  from  the  pinnacle  of  the 
temple." 

And  what  joy  is  his  if  they  obey,  and  with  their  own  wild-fire, 
attempt  to  force  the  conversion  of  their  congregation.  How  does 
he  exult,  when  they  undertake,  with  carnal  noise  and  bustle,  to 
drive  the  people,  by  storm,  as  it  were,  into  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven — and,  because  God  docs  not  do  it,  to  gird,  anoint, 
and  arm  themselves.  Then  does  the  devil  hold  high  festival, 
for  he  knows  that  now,  they  will  least  of  all  succeed,  since  the 
Holy  Spirit  will  never  countenance  such  dark  and  selfish  at- 
tempts.    Those  on  the  contrary,  whom  the  Lord  chooses  to  em- 


TUE    DEMAND    AND    THE    I'KOMISED    KEWAliD.  241 

ploj  are  broken  tools,  and  they  lie  quietly  in  the  hands  of  their 
God,  and  suffer  themselves  to  be  led,  driven  around,  and  gov- 
erned by  Jesus.  And  thus  it  is  the  work  prospers  ;  storming 
accomplishes  nothing. 

"  If  thou  be  the  Sou  of  God,  cast  thyself  down."  Thus  said 
the  devil  to  Jesus.  In  fact  a  severe  proposal.  But  children  of 
God,  not  to  say  the  Son  of  God  himself,  may  venture  something 
yet  greater.  Peter  could  boldly  step  out  from  his  boat  and  tread 
the  foaming  waves  ;  and  the  three  men  in  "Daniel"  could  enter 
the  flames  of  the  fiery  furnace.  There  was  no  danger  there. 
Our  promises  are  large.  Resting  on  them  we  can  undertake 
great  things  ;  and  that  divine  assurance  which  Satan  quoted 
with  pious  look  in  order  to  tempt  Jesus  to  take  the  leap,  is  far 
from  being  the  most  encouraging  we  have.  Certain  is  it  that 
the  angels  of  God  are  charged  to  bear  us  up  in  their  hands. 
They  are  associated  with  us  as  a  body  guard  and  sure  protection, 
on  whose  guidance  and  watch  we  may  joyfully  count,  in  all  those 
ways  wherein  God  bids  us  go.  Relying  on  this  promise  might 
the  Lord  have  boldy  plunged  headlong.  But  he  did  not.  Why 
not  ?  He  preferred  at  this  time  to  choose  the  natural  method, 
and  to  go  down  the  stairway.  Wherefore  ?  Because  the  other 
way  had  not  been  commanded  him  by  God.  Scarcely  had  the 
Satanic  proposal  been  made,  when  at  once  the  divine  command 
occurred  to  the  soul  of  Jesus  :  "  No,"  thought  the  spotless  lamb, 
"  for  such  self-chosen  ways  is  the  promise  not  given."  And  when 
Satan  said,  "  It  is  written,  the  Lord  will  give  bis  angels  charge 
concerning  thee,"  Jesus  met  the  tempter  with  a  like  weapon 
drawn  from  the  armory  of  God's  word.  He  replies  :  *'  It  is 
written  again,  *  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God,' "  and 
once  more  the  devil  is  defeated. 

What  is  it  then  to  tempt  God  ?  It  is,  in  the  first  place,  to 
incur  danger  presumptuously  in  order  that  God  may  rescue  us. 
To  such  unworthy  steps  would  the  devil  gladly  beguile  us,  and 
for  this  end  has  learned  by  heart  the  strongest  promises  of  God, 
in  order  that  he  might  take  us  unawares.     Therefore,  when  any 

U 


242  FJRED.    WM.    KRUMAI  A.CHER. 

word  of  God  is  proposed  to  us  for  the  purpose  of  inducing  us  to 
some  bold  step,  let  us  inquire,  whether  this  word  suits  the  occa- 
sion, and  whether  we  have  the  right,  under  the  circumstances, 
to  draw  comfort  from  it.  Thus  we  shall  ascertain  who  has  sug- 
gested the  word,  and  the  devil  will  not  so  easily  overreach  us. 

If  one  comes,  for  instance,  and  says  :  "'  Steer  out  into  these 
surging  breakers,  and  rescue  thy  brother  from  the  waves,  for 
it  is  written,  '  When  thou  passcst  through  the  waters  I  will 
be  with  thee,  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  not  overflow 
thee;'"  or  if  another  calls  out:  ''Rush  into  this  burning 
house  and  snatch  the  screaming  child  from  the  flames,  for  God 
has  said,  '  When  thou  walkest  through  the  fire  thou  shalt  not  be 
burned,  neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  thee,'"  If  there 
comes  a  whisper  in  thy  heart,  "  Give  this  starving  beggar  thy 
last  penny,  for  it  is  written,  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto 
the  least  of  these  my  brethren, -ye  have  done  it  unto  me  ;'"  then, 
my  friend,  in  God's  name,  up  with  your  anchor  and  out  to  sea. 
Do  in  every  case  as  you  are  bid.  A  good  angel  speaks  to  you, 
and  you  may  hope  for  help.  But  if  one  comes  to  you  and  says, 
"  Come  friend  into  this  or  that  convivial  circle,  for  it  is  written, 
*  The  Lord  preserveth  the  souls  of  his  saints  ;' "  or  if  the  advice  is 
suggested,  "  Just  go  and  venture  once,  give  up  thy  work  and 
keep  holiday,  for  it  is  written,  '  He  giveth  his  beloved  in  his 
sleep  ;' "  *  then  be  sure  it  is  the  crafty  devil,  with  whom  you 
have  to  do.  Answer  him  back,  "It  is  written  again,  'Thou 
shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.'"  Tell  him,  "He  who  runs 
presumptuously  into  danger  will  perish  therein." 

Fiendish  snares  like  these,  drawn  even  from  the  word  of  God 
itself,  are  still  more  numerous.  Of  this  sort,  also,  is  that  ac- 
cursed temptation,  whereby  we  are  induced  to  examine,  whether 
this  or  that  divine  declaration  is  true  ;  and  so  to  test  the  truth 
and  faithfulness  of  God  by  our  own  standards.  Thus,  for  ex- 
ample, he  is  said  to  have  succeeded  in  a  monstrous  artifice  with.. 

*  This  is  tlie  Lr.theran,  and  the  correct  version  of  Ps.  cx:jvii.  2. — TbakS. 


THE    DEMAND    AND    THE    TKOMISED    KEWARD.  243 

three  prcacliers.  He  called  up  to  their  minds  (Matt,  xviii.  20j, 
''When  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  mj  name,  there 
am  I  in  the  midst  of  them,"  and  then  that  other  word,  "  If  two 
of  you  shall  agree  on  earth  as  touching  anything  that  they 
shall  ask,  it  shall  be  done  for  them  of  my  Father  which  is  in 
Heaven  ;"  and  then  he  inquired  *'  Can  this  be  so  ?"  Then  alas  I 
the  preachers  thought,  "  We  will  prove  it,"  and  accordingly  they 
fixed  an  hour  when  they  should  meet  and  pray  that  the  Lord 
might  personally  appear  to  them.  In  this  way  they  meant  to 
test  whether  he  had  spoken  truly.  And  they  met  and  began  to 
pray.  *'  0  Lord,  manifest  thyself."  But  the  Lord  appeared  not. 
Thereupon  the  devil  shouted  "  Victory."  The  heinous  wicked- 
ness was  committed.  Subsequently  the  Lord  did,  indeed,  appear 
to  them,  but  it  was  in  a  far  different  mode  from  what  they  had 
expected.  He  became  to  them  as  a  moth  and  a  maggot,  and 
henceforth  there  was  neither  blessing,  nor  light,  nor  peace,  nor 
joy  to  these  men,  even  unto  the  end,  but  a  spiritual  apostasy  and 
declension  set  in,  which  could  not  be  arrested.  May  the  Lord 
in  mercy  guard  us  from  such  attempts  at  proving  Him!  Let  the 
slightest  whisper  of  the  sort,  which  may  stir  within  us,  be  a  sure 
token  that  danger  is  lurking  near — and  loud  and  earnestly  as 
we  are  able,  let  us  cry  "  Satan,  it  is  written  '  Thou  shalt  not 
tempt  the  Lord  thy  God.' " 

One  of  the  most  common  strokes  of  Satan  is,  by  means  of  the 
word  of  God  itself,  to  infuse  into  us  doubts  respecting  it.  Ex- 
traordinary things  are  in  this  way  experienced.  For  example,  he 
exhibits  to  us  at  a  glance  a  multitude  of  insignificant  circum- 
stances in  the  Bible  ;  as,  for  instance,  that  Paul  writes  to 
Timothy  to  bring  him  the  cloak  which  he  had  left  at  Troas,  and 
many  other  things  of  the  sort  ;  and  while  these  are  before 
the  mind,  he  maliciously  asks  :  "  And  are  such  words  too,  in- 
spired by  the  Spirit  ?"  And  thereupon  he  quickly  adds,  "  Then 
is  the  whole  Bible  not  inspired  1"  From  this  ho  proceeds  to 
inquire,  "  What  is  of  the  Spirit,  and  what  not  ?"  and  soon  he 
reaches  the  conclusion:  "The  Bible  is  an  unsafe  foundation." 


244  FEED.    WM.    KEUMMACHER. 

And  in  fact,  he  now  and  then  succeeds  with  such  arts,  for  the 
moment  at  least,  to  shake  the  whole  structure  of  the  Bible  about 
our  heads,  and  everything  appears  to  totter  and  reel,  until  we  at 
last  come  to  our  recollection. 

In  order  to  make  us  suspect  the  word  of  God,  he  not  unfre- 
quently,  with  lightning  speed,  thrusts  before  our  eyes  this  or 
that  passage,  just  at  the  moment  when  some  occurrence  in  life 
appears  to  falsify  it.  For  instance,  if  you  are  lying  in  despair, 
suffering  great  necessities  and  bitter  trials,  and  all  help  seems 
wanting,  just  then  he  reminds  you  of  this  sweet  verse  :  "  Like 
as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that 
fear  Him,"  And  thereupon  with  grinning  mockery  he  asks  : 
"  Where,  then,  is  your  father  ?  and  that  pity,  that  boasted  help, 
where  does  it  linger  ?"  And  what  can  delight  the  villain  more 
than  the  exploit  of  defiling  your  soul  with  doubt,  unbelief,  and 
impatience  ?  If  you  have  long  prayed  and  striven  with  God  for 
some  object,  be  it  bread  for  your  hungering  children,  or  be  it 
advice  in  bitter  perplexities,  or  be  it  a  little  alleviation  and  rest 
in  thy  pains,  or  be  it  a  small  drop  of  comfort  in  your  anguish, 
and  do  not  immediately  receive  it,  there  again  is  the  devil  at 
hand — whispering  :  "  Is  it  not  written,  '  Whatsoever  ye  ask  the 
Father  in  my  name.  He  will  give  it  you?'  Now,  poor  beggar, 
have  you  got  your  bosom  full  of  God's  gifts  ?"  Thus  mocks  the 
tempter,  and  surely  did  the  Lord  not  keep  his  hand  on  our  faith, 
you  would  not  be  able  to  escape  these  fiery  darts  unscathed. 

The  most  dangerous  method  in  which  the  devil  can  manage 
the  word  of  God,  as  a  weapon  against  us,  is  this.  He  tears 
out  individual  texts  from  their  connection,  and  instead  of  inter- 
preting them  according  to  the  analogy  of  faith,  he  gives  them 
to  us  mutilated,  perverts  their  sense,  and  thus  seeks  to  impose 
them  upon  people.  Now,  just  here  it  is,  if  anywhere,  we  must 
encounter  him  with  like  weapons,  and  lead  the  battle  against 
him  with  the  sword  of  the  word.  If  he  says  :  "  It  is  written, 
'  Where  sin  abounded,  grace  did  much  more  abound,'  therefore, 
slacken  the  rems,  let  passions  boil ;  what  boots  it  ?"  then  reply : 


THE  DEMAND  AND  THE  PE0MI8ED  REWARD.     245 

"  It  is  written  again,  '  Shall  we  continue  in  sin  that  grace  may 
abound  ?  God  forbid.  How  shall  we  who  are  dead  to  sin  live 
any  longer  therein  V  "  Again,  if  the  devil  says  :  "  It  is  written, 
*  It  is  no  more  I  that  do  it,  but  sin  that  liveth  in  me  ;'  therefore, 
keep  quiet,  and  be  not  so  anxious  about  your  misdoings."  Then 
give  him  the  retort :  "  It  is  also  written,  '  0  wretched  man  that 
I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death.'  God's 
children  must  mourn  for  their  sins."  Should  Satan  say :  ''  It  is 
written,  '  It  is  not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth, 
but  of  God  that  showeth  mercy,'  therefore  abide  in  the  world, 
and  enjoy  its  feastings  and  frolic,  until  God  calls  you."  Then 
say  in  reply  :  ''I  know  it  ;  but  it  is  written  again,  *  Work  out 
your  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  it  is  God  that  work- 
eth  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  pleasure.' " 

Once  more,  if  the  tempter  cries  :  "  It  is  written,  '  Known  unto 
God  are  all  His  works,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  ;'  there- 
fore, desist  from  prayer  and  supplication,  your  lot  is  determined. 
What  you  ought  to  have  you  will  certainly  receive  ;"  let  the 
reply  be  :  *'It  is  written  again,  'Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive,  for 
every  one  that  asketh  receive th.' "  Still  further,  if  the  dragon 
declares  :  "  It  is  written,  '  This  is  the  Father's  will  which  hath 
sent  me,  that  of  all  which  He  hath  given  me  I  should  lose 
nothing,  but  should  raise  him  up  at  the  last  day  ;'  therefore,  live 
as  you  list,  and  do  what  your  heart  lusteth  after.  What  has  Moses 
to  do  with  you  ?  You  are  insured  to  salvation  !"  Then  answer 
back  :  "  Again  it  is  written,  '  My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I 
know  them,  and  they  follow  me."  Behold,  my  brethren,  it  is 
thus  you  can  disarm  the  devil,  and  in  the  might  of  God  obtain 
a  triumph  over  him,  and  make  a  show  of  him  openly. 

The  battle-field  is  changed.  Quick  as  lightning  is  the  Son 
of  God  snatched  away  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  by  the 
power  conceded  to  Satan  over  Him,  and  transported  to  the 
top  of  a  high  mountain.  Yet  not  merely  in  the  body,  but  in  a 
spiritual  manner  likewiee  did  He  see  himself  planted  suddenly  as 


24:6  FEED.    WM.    KEUMMACHEE. 

on  the  dizzy  apex  of  a  high  tower,  and  suddenly  there  stretched 
out  before  Him  a  boundless  prospect  of  unparalleled  charm 
and  dazzling  beauty,  in  the  magic  mirror  of  a  wonderful  vision. 

What  happens  ?  Quick  as  thought  there  appears  before  Him 
in  His  horizon  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  most  brilliantly 
illuminated  ;  and  all  their  glory,  pomp,  pleasures,  and  decorations 
pass  before  His  eyes  in  the  most  fascinating  images,  and  most 
captivating  scenes.  The  hmits  of  time  and  space  retire  ;  that 
which  was  distant  is  brought  near,  that  which  was  locked  up  is 
opened,  that  which  was  covered  is  unveiled  ;  and  all  this,  as 
St.  Luke  says,  ''in  a  moment  of  time."  An  unheard  of  illusion 
it  was.  Like  to  one  vast  glowing  picture,  there  lie  spread  out 
to  view  the  most  delightful  realms  of  earth,  and  all  around  Him 
is  displayed  the  enchanting  panorama  of  its  splendid  cities  and 
most  princely  palaces.  Here  was  proud  Rome,  the  victorious 
mistress  of  the  world,  and  sovereign  over  a  hundred  kings  ; 
there,  the  spicy  mountains  of  the  East,  and  Persia's  loveliest 
rose-gardens.  Here  w^as  Ophir,  with  its  rich  mines  of  gold 
and  diamonds ;  there,  India,  that  wonder-land,  decked  in  all  the 
variegated  colors  of  au  endless  spring,  and  traversed  by  streams 
of  milk  and  honey.  Yet,  not  kingdoms  and  cities  merely,  but 
other  wonders  still  pass  before  the  eyes  of  Jesus. 

Besides  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  the  devil  shows  Him  also 
the  glory  of  the  world — all  that  the  world  has  of  witchery  and 
fascination — whatever  delights  and  ravishes  the  senses — and 
whatever  the  children  of  this  world  call  their  Paradise  and  their 
heaven.  All  this  Jesus  now  sees  lying  before  Him.  Here,  glit 
tering  palaces  unbosomed  amid  fragrant  gardens  and  fields  ;  there 
chariots  and  horses,  the  pomp  and  retinue  of  courts.  Here 
galleries  of  art  and  temples  of  dazzling  wisdom  ;  there,  laurel 
crowns  of  fame  and  monuments  of  glory.  Here,  sumptuous  ban- 
quets in  halls  resplendent  with  gold  ;  there,  festive  crowds  listen- 
ing to  magic  symphonies  and  rapturous  choirs  of  music. 

In  short,  all — all  that  makes  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  men 
leap  in  their  bosoms,  and  the  blood  thrill  in  their  veins,  and  the 


THE    DEMANl^    AND    THE    PROMISED    liEWAKD.  247 

eyes  glow  with  joy  and  desire,  all  this  rushes  at  once  before  Ilis 
vision  in  the  most  vivid  imagery,  and  God  alone  can  tell  what 
the  pure  eyes  of  Jesus  must  have  seen  at  that  moment.  We 
siiay  be  sure  no  bewildering  scene,  no  sense-intoxicating  image 
was  then  left  uncovered  before  Him  by  Satan. 

Something  like  this  which  Jesus  experienced  on  the  summit 
of  this  high  mountain,  do  we  also  at  times  pass  through.  Those 
especially  among  our  brethren,  who  by  nature  are  of  a  lively 
temperament,  and  possess  an  enthusiastic  disposition,  and  a  quick 
fancy,  will  be  able,  no  doubt,  to  tell  us  something  of  these  magic 
visions.  People  of  this  character  are  most  readily  approached 
by  such  snares  of  the  devil,  because  their  susceptible  natures 
and  ardent  sensibilities  appear  to  promise  him  a  certain  victory 
— and  if  he  does  conquer,  he  at  least  succeeds  in  winning  away 
such  people  to  his  magic  mountains  far  more  easily  than  others. 
For  the  attainment  of  this  object  he  ordinarily  employs  some 
external  means.  These  means,  for  example,  he  finds  in  the 
sphere  of  the  fine  arts, — so  far  as  they  have  entered  into  the 
service  of  the  world  and  sin.  Now  it  is  an  attractive  picture  ; 
now  a  bewitching  poem  ;  now  a  sweet  tone  or  a  heart-stirring 
melody,  by  means  of  which  he  carries  on  his  magical  incanta- 
tions. 

Oftentimes  there  is  needed  only  a  few  chords  or  some  single 
notes,  perchance  of  a  flute,  which  float  out  from  the  distance, 
in  tender  vibrations  scarcely  audible  unto  the  solitude  of  our 
still  chamber,  and  the  charm  is  at  once  wrought — as  at  a  fiat 
of  the  Almighty,  there  lies  spread  out  before  us  in  a  moment  a 
whole  paradise  of  intoxicating  felicity,  and,  as,  through  the  rent 
of  some  overhanging  curtain,  our  eyes  look  away  into  an  heaven 
upon  earth.  The  joys  of  our  youth,  to  which  we  had  long  since 
bidden  farewell,  again  draw  near  in  most  enchanting  pictures, 
and  pleasures  to  which  we,  perhaps  years  since,  had  become 
crucified  and  dead  by  the  grace  of  God,  re-appear  in  the  most 
winning  forms  and  in  the  most  attractive  lights.  Here,  then,  hang 
wreaths  of  perishable  glory  ;  but  how  lovely  do  they  seem  once 


248  FEED    WM.  kru:mmachee. 

more  !  liow  fascinating  !  Tliere,  then,  are  opened  before  ns  halls 
of  worldly  revelry  and  vain  mirth  ;  and  how  pleasant  do  they 
look  again — those  gay  circles  !  how  is  the  poor  heart  ag'ain  capti- 
vated I  Here,  then,  are  unlocked  to  sight  the  brilliant  assembly 
rooliis  of  the  fashionable  world,  filled  with  shout  and  song,  with 
harp  melodies  and  mazy  dances,  and  there  the  eye  wanders  over 
flowery  fields  of  worldly  art  and  sweet  poetic  dreams. 

In  short,  every  thing  beautiful  and  costly  which  the  world 
possesses,  suddenly,  as  at  the  touch  of  a  magic  wand,  bursts 
upon  the  mirror  of  our  fancy  in  the  most  lively  pictures,  and 
scenes  and  forms  ;  and  however  vain  it  may  all  be  in  itself,  how- 
ever nugatory  and  worthless,  there  lies  upon  it  all  a  charm,  a 
play  of  coloring,  such  beauty  and  enamelling,  as  if  one  were 
actually  looking  over  into  a  paradise  ;  and  in  presence  of  such 
fascinating  visions  the  sea  of  sensibility,  and  longing,  and  of 
desire  begins  to  heave  and  swell  as  if  a  storm  was  working  in 
its  inmost  depths.  It  is  at  such  moments  you  stand  upon  the 
high  magic  mountains,  and  the  devil  is  showing  you  the  kingdoms 
of  the  earth  and  their  glory  in  a  moment  of  time. 

And  for  this  reason  it  is,  that  our  secular  music,  as  it  is  now 
constituted,  has  become  so  dangerous  a  thing  because  the  devil 
is  so  ready  and  skillful  in  using  it  to  call  up  such  seasons  of  sen- 
sual intoxication.  In  the  operas  and  the  arias,  the  symphonies 
and  the  concerts,  of  this  world,  the  devil  finds  a  powerful  charm 
whereby  to  transfigure  the  vain  splendor  of  earth  into  the  glory 
of  heaven.  Experienced  Christians  have  acknowledged  that 
they,  in  moments  at  least,  through  such  ungodly  and  secularized 
music,  have  been  so  mightily  and  so  irresistibly  captivated  by  the 
devil,  that  they,  like  real  inebriates,  have  for  the  time  lamented 
their  departure  from  Egypt,  and  envied  the  children  of  this 
world,  if  not  for  their  re  veilings  and  banquetings,  yet  for  their 
more  refined  enjoyments  and  more  polished  pleasures.  And,  it  not 
seldom  happens,  that  this  most  potent  of  all  arts,  forms  one  of 
the  wings  by  means  of  which  the  power  of  the  tempter  lifts 
us  to  tliose  raafric  mountains  from  whence  the  kinerdoms  of 


THE    PEINIAND    AND    THE    PROMISED    REWARD.  249 

this  world,  and  all  the  glory  of  them,  are  arrayed  before  our 
fancy  in  such  transfigured  splendor,  and  overlaid  with  such  a 
golden  mist  and  glory,  as  to  transport  all  our  senses  into  a 
dream  of  perfect  delight  and  ecstasy,  which  would  surely  over- 
come us  on  the  spot,  if  Almighty  Grace,  our  mother,  did  not 
cover  us  with  her  shield. 


DISCOURSE    XII. 
THE  LAST  ASSAULT  AND  ISSUE  OF  THE  CONTEST. 

"  Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil," 
etc.— Matt.  iv.  1-11. 

In  that  very  momcDt  when  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  stood 
before  the  eyes  of  Jesus  in  the  rnao^ic  mirror  of  that  enchanting 
vision,  the  devil  smote  upon  his  breast,  and  losing  his  com- 
posure, and,  in  spite  of  all  his  affectation  of  majesty  and  dignity, 
forgetting  the  part  he  was  acting  and  betraying  himself, 
exclaims  :  '^  All  this  is  mine.  I  give  it  to  whom  I  will;  to  thee 
will  I  give  it,  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me." 

"  All  this  is  mine  !"  Great  God,  how  shockingly  this  sounds; 
and  alas  !  here  the  father  of  lies  has  spoken  the  truth.  By  a 
holy  decree  of  God  has  it  become  his  ;  this  world,  for  which,  at 
a  subsequent  period,  the  great  High  Priest  would  not  pray. 
He  is  its  prince,  its  head,  its  god — its  liege  lord.  The  vast 
majority  on  earth  are  his — the  largest  number  of  souls  draw  in 
his  yoke — most  lands  pay  him  tribute,  and  upon  the  walls  of 
most  cities  his  black  banners  are  waving.  Who  can  count  them 
— those  hundreds  of  millions,  whose  souls  he  keeps  fast  locked, 
barred,  and  imprisoned  in  the  thousand  fold  fetters  and  bonds  of 
sin  and  darkness,  and  in  countless  spiritual  dungeons  and  cells,  be 
it  of  Islam  or  of  heathenism,  of  the  strong  delusions  of  the 
Talmud,  or  of  the  dogmas  of  the  Seven  Hills  ;  of  heaven-storm- 
ing rationalism,   or  of  pantheism  and  atheism  ?     Yes,  without 

260 


THE   LAST   ASSAULT   AND    ISSUE   OF   THE    CONTEST.       251 

any  vaiu  parade,  may  he  say  '  it  is  all  mine  ;'  for  that  small  part 
which  is  not  his  but  God's,  this  cottage  in  a  garden  of  cucumbers, 
this  wornn  Jacob,  this  despised  remnant  of  Israel,  becomes  lost  as 
it  were,  in  the  gigantic  domain  of  this  fallen  priiicc  of  angels, 
and  floats  about  in  the  same  like  a  drop  in  the  boundless  ocean. 

Aud  what  is  there  in  the  world  which  the  devil  has  not  usurped 
and  prostrated  to  the  expansion  and  the  strengthening  of  his 
kingdom,  aud  made  subservient  to  his  satanic  designs,  especially 
in  these  our  days.  To  liim  belong  the  most  of  our  i:)ulpits  and 
cathedrals  ;  his  are  the  newspapers  and  daily  journals  ;  his  the 
public  assemblies  and  associations  ;  his  the  sciences  and  the  fine 
arts — all  these  things  has  he  had  skill  gradually  to  draw  into  the 
service  of  his  own  cause.  Who  inspires  the  poetry  in  that  flood 
of  romances  and  comedies  which  is  now  inundating  the  world 
with  its  thousands  of  lies,  and  godless  conceptions  ?  Who  plays 
and  manages  the  music  in  those  voluptuous  operas  and  frivolous 
arias,  in  which  the  melody  that  ought  to  be  praising  the  name 
of  the  Lord,  steps  forth  as  a  dangerous  murderess  of  souls,  and 
breathes  a  refined  poison  into  all  hearts  ?  Who  holds  his  seat 
in  the  pompous  institutes  of  the  later  philosophies,  aud  from 
these  redoubts  and  bastions,  deals  his  deadly  strokes  at  the 
gospel  of  peace  ? — and  who  is  it  that  has  concocted  and  brought 
into  the  market  this  fashionable  religion  of  the  present  day,  this 
sweet  magic  potion — a  mixture  of  sentimental  atheism  and  in- 
dolent, corrupt,  and  God-estranged  morality,  which  has  lulled 
the  people  into  a  profound  slumber,  from  which  the  thunders  of 
the  judgment  alone  will  awaken  them,  alas,  too  late  ?  Is  it  not 
the  father  of  lies — the  old  serpent — the  dragon  out  of  the 
abyss  ? 

Let  no  one  then  be  astonished  that  the  devil  speaks  of  a 
giving  which  is  in  his  power  :  "All  these  things  will  I  give  to 
thee  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me."  There  are  satanic 
gifts  as  well  as  divine  gifts,  and  the  world  swarms  with  men  who 
are  indebted  to  the  devil  for  their  enjoyments,  their  pleasures, 
houors,  titles,  and  dignities.     Yes,  and  he  has  his  wages  aud  his 


252  FEED.    AVM.    KUrM^rACHER. 

premiums  for  those  who  follow  liis  banner,  and  he  kno\YS  how 
to  reward  well  their  zeal  in  his  service  in  various  ways  ;  and  not 
seldom  is  it  permitted  him  of  God  to  overwhelm  reprobate  men 
so  abundantly  with  the  pleasures  and  the  glory  of  this  world,  and 
to  lead  them  about  so  freely  upon  the  rich  meadows  of  carnal 
indulgence,  that  in  the  end  the  very  last  traces  of  humanity  are 
obliterated  from  those  vessels  of  wrath,  and  they  go  to  hell  like 
brutes. 

"  All  these  things  will  I  give  thee  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and 
worship  me."  Thus  the  tempter  to  our  Lord.  Just  imagine  the 
Son  of  the  living  God  bending  the  knee  worshipfully  before  the  Old 
Serpent  !  This  is  the  most  wicked,  the  most  monstrous  proposal 
which  was  ever  made  to  a  being  in  this  world.  Indeed  it  ap- 
pears an  entire  forgetfulness  of  the  part  he  was  acting,  and 
hardly  consistent  with  the  cunning  and  craft  of  this  greatest  of 
magicians,  this  prince  of  sorcerers,  and  of  a  genius  so  gigantic 
as  Satan  is. 

But  let  us  only  realize  the  critical  and  perilous  condition  in 
which  Satan  found  himself  at  this  moment,  and  we  shall  no 
longer  be  surprised  at  his  shameless  and  accursed  demand.  The 
veils  are  falling  off,  and  the  devil  suspects  with  increasing  cer- 
tainty with  whom  he  has  to  deal.  The  brilliant  triumphs  which 
the  Lord  has  hitherto  achieved  over  him,  and  his  most  subtle 
arts,  scarcely  leave  him  the  slightest  doubt  that  Jesus  is  the 
Christ.  Disconcerted  beyond  measure  on  account  of  his  unsucess- 
ful  operations  against  this  great  adversary  of  his  kingdom,  and 
no  less  disturbed  at  the  dangers  which  threaten  his  rule,  he 
resolves,  with  angry  impetuosity,  upon  a  last  decisive  stroke  ; 
but  already  his  reflection  faltered  by  passion,  his  coolness  and 
moderation,  have  sunk  in  those  fiery  waves  of  despairing  rage, 
which  wildly  and  fearfully  surge  through  his  soul. 

Indeed  now,  for  the  first  time,  after  having  ascertained  the 
character  of  his  adversary,  he  becomes  clearly  conscious  of  the 
intense  earnestness  and  the  momentous  significance  of  the 
struggle  in  which  he  is  engaged,  and  he  clearly  perceives  that 


THE   LAST   ASSAULT   AND    ISSUE   OF   THE   CONTEST.       253 

one  of  them  must  fall.  "  Either  Thou,"  he  thmks,  "  or  I — either 
I  overcome  Thee,  or  I  am  overcome."  But,  nevertheless,  his 
last  attack,  however  much  of  art  and  energy  it  displayed,  was 
of  all  the  most  unskillful,  and  resembles  the  charge  of  a  despe- 
rate warrior,  who  gives  up  his  cause  for  lost,  and  daring  every 
extremity,  rushes  wildly  and  blindly  into  the  ranks  of  the  foe, 
and  flings  himself  upon  their  swords.  The  last  stroke  which  the 
devil  aimed  at  Jesus  was  an  act  of  desperation  which  was  de- 
signed, in  fact,  less  to  overcome  the  Son  of  God  and  drive  Him 
from  the  field  (of  which,  indeed,  there  remained  but  little  hope), 
than  by  way  of  farewell  to  offer  Him  yet  one  grievous  insult  and 
affront,  and  to  give  him  to  understand,  as  with  a  contemptuous 
stamp  of  the  foot,  that  He  must  not  imagine  that  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  bowing  the  neck  of  His  adversary. 

In  such  desperate  mood  of  mind,  and  foaming  with  rage,  the 
devil  begins  his  incantations,  passes  his  magic  mirror  before  the 
eyes  of  his  adversary,  opens  to  Him  one  prospect  after  another 
into  the  most  fascinating  regions  of  wordly  pleasure  and  glory, 
and  exclaims  with  grinning  scorn,  and  wild,  devilish  contempt  : 
''  Behold  there  all  this  that  thou  seest,  these  enjoyments,  all 
these  delightful  possessions,  which  cannot  but  be  pleasing  to 
thee,  these  shalt  thou  have  if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship 
me — up  then,  seize  the  tempting  prize— down  in  the  dust  and 
worship  thy  Lord  and  monarch."  It  might  also  be  supposed 
that,  from  the  circumstance  of  Jesus  having  withheld  the  mira- 
culous proofs  desired  of  Him,  the  devil  had  drawn  the  inference 
that  Jesus  was  not  the  God-man,  but  only  some  great  saint,  yet 
still  a  man  upon  whom,  as  such,  he  could  make  still  more  ex- 
orbitant demands,  and  approach  with  less  disguise  and  with 
greater  daring  and  firmness.  The  above  hinted  explanation, 
however,  appears  to  lie  nearer  the  truth.  The  satanic  demand 
was,  as  before  observed,  an  act  of  despair — an  outbreak  of  blas- 
phemous rage  and  devilish  scorn,  rather  than  of  proper  tempta- 
tion. 

Believers  also  have  often  to  suffer  from  the  devil  precisely 


254:  FEED.    T\'M.    KEIIMMACHEE. 

the  same  which  their  Master  suffered  in  the  wilderness,  in  that 
the  wicked  one  persecutes  them  also  with  the  most  horrible 
and  godless  demands,  and  projects  thoughts  into  their  souls 
so  wicked  and  abominable,  that  they  quake  before  them  with 
horror.  But  take  comfort,  and  despair  not,  ye  tempted  souls. 
The  devil  assails  you  with  such  buffetings  and  blows,  out  of 
pure  vexation  and  rage,  because  he  cannot  succeed  in  destroying 
you  altogether.  Regard  these  temptations  as  the  ebullitions  of 
a  weak  enemy,  who,  because  he  cannot  overcome  you  with  sword 
and  sling,  flings  at  you  mire  and  filth,  in  order,  at  least,  to  fret 
you,  and  in  this  way  he  would  fain  wreak  his  spite,  because  he 
can  do  it  in  no  other. 

Let  us  witness,  now,  the  Issue  of  the  Contest. 
Scarcely  had  Jesus  heard  the  blasphemous  request,  scarcely  had 
He  cast  a  glance  into  the  magic  scene  of  glory  and  pleasure 
which  the  devil  had  the  boldness  to  parade  before  Him,  when 
it  became  perfectly  evident  with  whom  He  had  to  do.  "  These 
are  thy  goods,  thy  kingdoms,"  thinks  He,  "and  is  it  w^orship 
thou  askest  ?  Thou  art  betrayed,  subtle  spirit ;  the  mask  is 
fallen.  I  know  thee."  With  abhorrence  and  contempt  the  holy 
soul  of  our  spotless  High  Priest  turns  away  from  the  images  of 
vanity  and  delight  which  Satan  had  conjured  up  before  Him. 
He  seizes  the  brazen  shield  of  the  word  of  God,  on  which  all  the 
fiery  darts  of  the  devil  are  quenched,  and  exclaims  with  the 
majesty  of  the  Only-begotten,  to  whom  all  power  is  given  in 
heaven  and  on  earth  :  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,  for  it  is 
written,  '  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only 
shalt  thou  serve.' " 

The  devil  ventured  not  to  speak  a  second  time  concerning 
worship  ;  he  was  beaten,  and  the  Lamb  of  God,  pure  and  with- 
out blemish,  came  forth  from  the  contest  in  triumph,  a  victor. 
In  the  obedience  of  faith  with  the  sword  of  the  Spirit, 
which  is  the  word  of  God,  He  laid  the  dragon  low  in  the  dust. 

The    temptation   which    Jesus    so  victoriously   repelled   oc* 


THE   LAST   ASSAULT   AND   ISSUE   OF   THE   CONTEST.       255 

curs  not  seldom  also  in  the  life  of  Ilis  children.  We  have 
already  remarked  how  the  devil  can  also'  exhibit  to  us,  in 
his  magic  mirror,  all  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  and  the 
glory  of  them  in  a  moment  of  time.  Ah  I  yes,  also  the  holiest 
on  earth  will  be  obliged  to  acknowledge,  that  in  the  life  of 
the  children  of  God  there  may  come  hours  and  moments,  when 
a  thousand  pleasures  and  enjoyments,  goods  and  connections, 
to  which  they  had  deemed  themselves  long  since  entirely 
dead,  suddenly  float  around  them  again  in  the  most  charming 
magic  light,  and  present  themselves  to  the  eyes  of  their  fancy. 
Then  once  more  does  it  grow  stormy  and  tempestuous  upon 
the  sea  of  sense  and  passion,  and  the  devil  then  leaves  no 
means  untried  wherewith  to  engulph  the  poor  soul  in  these 
raging  floods. 

In  such  moments  is  it  also  said  to  us  quickly,  unexpectedly, 
ere  we  can  recollect  ourselves,  ''  All  these  things  will  I  give  thee, 
if  thou  wilt  fall  down  and  worship  me  ;"  and  lo  !  it  is  only  a 
trifle  that  is  demanded  in  order  to  win  all  these  glories  and 
golden  mountains — only  a  slight  trespass,  which,  perhaps,  no 
man  would  ever  discover  ;  only  one  rapid  foot-fall  before  the 
wicked  one,  only  one  passing  act  of  homage,  and  all  is  ours. 
And  oh  !  ye  dear  ones,  David  and  Solomon  are  not  the  only  in- 
stances among  God's  children,  of  persons  who  have  paid  this 
homage  in  order  once  more  to  drink  from  the  intoxicating  cup 
of  this  world's  joys.  Yet  in  whatever  way  this  homage  may  be 
paid,  we  compassionate  these  prostrate  brethren,  and  despise 
them  not.  No — we  despise  them  not,  for  we  know  our  hearts, 
and  know  what  we  are,  and  understand  how  the  wicked  one  can 
paint  the  world  so  fair,  and  color  its  vanities  so  charmingly  as  to 
captivate  the  strongest.  We  know  this,  and  sigh  through  all 
the  hours,  "  Lord  lead  us  not  into  temptation." 

Indeed,  the  wicked  one  is  not  to  be  mistaken  when  he  assails  us 
with  such  bewitching  and  such  shameful  propositions.  The  enjoy- 
ments and  possessions  which  he  offers  us  so  eloquently,  and  the 
ways  and  means  which  he  proposes  for  the  attainment  of  the  same 


256  FRED.    WM.    KRUMMACHEE. 

betray  biin.  In  temptations  of  this  sort  he  comes  not  as  an  angel 
of  Hght,  but  unmasked  and  unclothed,  plumply  and  openly,  boldly 
and  firmly.  Thus  we  soon  know  with  whom  we  have  to  deal,  and 
this  makes  the  conflict  all  the  easier.  Unharmed,  like  Jesus,  we 
shall  indeed  never  perhaps  quit  the  field.  Without  having  felt  any 
excitement  of  sinful  desire,  shall  we  rarely  turn  our  glance  away 
from  those  enchanting  scenes.  Happy  will  it  be  for  us  if  we  can 
but  escape  ere  lust  has  conceived  and  brought  forth,  and  are 
enabled  to  leave  the  plain  unsubdued  and  uncrushed.  Let  the 
weapon  with  which  Jesus  so  readily  beat  back  the  last  attack  of 
the  tempter  be  in  like  cases  also  our  own.  It  is  written,  "  Thou 
shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt  thou  serve." 
Against  this  word,  when  it  is  taken  as  a  word  of  God  and  op- 
posed in  faith  to  the  wicked  one,  will  his  strongest  lances  be 
shivered  like  straws,  and  as  often  as  he  sees  this  piece  of  armor 
glistening  around  our  breast,  all  hope  will  vanish  at  once  of  ever 
being  able  to  tempt  us  to  the  slightest  worship  or  the  most 
momentary  homage  of  him. 

Then  the  devil  leaveth  Him,  and  behold  angels  came  and 
ministered  unto  Him.  Such  was  the  final  issue  of  this  great  and 
momentous  conflict  ;  and,  surely,  never  could  the  Devil  have 
yielded  a  battle-field  in  more  unhappy  mood — never  quit  a  foe 
with  such  lacerated  and  infuriated  soul — as  he  then  must  have 
left  the  most  formidable  adversary  of  his  kingdom.  To  be 
routed  so  utterly,  and  to  be  compelled  to  ground  his  weapons 
covered  with  such  shame,  this  was  to  him  as  intolerable  as  it 
was  novel.  Like  a  dark  cloud  of  the  night,  which  the  storm- 
wind  drives,  he  hurried  hence,  rolling  around  his  fiery  eyes  and 
gnashing  his  teeth  in  despair  ;  and  to  the  mountains  and  to  the 
hills  might  he  have  called,  that  they  should  fall  upon  him  and 
hide  him  from  the  sight  aUke  of  heaven  and  hell  ;  that  he  might 
neither  hear  the  triumph  of  the  angels  above  him,  nor  the  sullen 
murmur  and  mournful  bowlings  of  the  hellish  host  below  over 
Kuch  utter  shame  and  prostration. 

But  with  our  Lord  it  is  well.     Oh,  how  well  must  it  have  been 


THE   LAST   ASSAULT   AND    ISSUE   OF   THE   CONTEST.       257 

for  Him,  when,  after  a  forty  days'  sad  desertion,  not  in  the  wil- 
derness merely,  but  in  the  very  midst  of  the  powers  of  darkness 
(for  Luke  says  that  He  was  forty  days  tempted  of  the  devil), 
he  now  suddenly  is  again  restored  to  His  element,  and  finds  Him- 
self among  the  dear  angels  of  God,  who  come  to  worship  and  to 
wait  on  the  great  Conqueror.  Then  was  fulfilled  the  word 
which  the  dying  Jacob  uttered  of  old  with  prophetic  spirit  : 
"  Judah  is  a  lion's  whelp.  From  the  prey,  my  son,  thou  art  gone 
up.  He  stooped  down,  he  couched  as  a  lion,  and  as  an  old  lion 
who  shall  rouse  him  up."  This  rest,  however,  was  not  the  end 
of  the  combat,  but  only  a  short  truce.  The  devil,  observes  Luke, 
departed  from  Him  for  a  season.  It  was  not  long  before  he 
stood  again  in  full  array  against  Jesus  upon  the  plain  ;  and  he 
has  followed  Him  with  his  slings  and  his  darts  until  this  great 
Samson  on  Golgotha  crushed  him  with  His  own  folly,  and  for 
ever  wrested  the  sceptre  out  of  his  hands.  When  the  blood  of 
the  Lamb  of  God  stained  the  wood  of  the  accursed  tree,  then  it 
was  that  the  serpent's  head  was  effectually  bruised. 

Our  life,  too,  dear  friends,  will  prove  a  conflict,  even  unto  ^ 
the  end.  There  will  not.  Indeed,  be  wanting  to  us  days  of 
rest  and  festival  hours  in  the  wilderness  ;  but  the  full,  unbroken 
Sabbath  awaits  us  yonder.  So  long  as  we  dwell  in  these  pilgrim 
tents,  so  long  will  the  Devil  not  sheathe  his  sword,  and  the  roar- 
ing Lion  not  cease  "  to  go  about  seeking  whom  he  may  devour;" 
and  although  he  may  be  forced  to  give  up  the  hope  of  conquering 
us,  yet  will  he  not  desist  from  wreaking  his  anger  upon  us  ;  and 
through  assaults  and  buffetings  of  various  kinds,  will  he  cause 
us  to  feel  his  hatred  and  his  contempt.  Yet  we  fear  not.  With 
Paul  we  will  exultingly  say,  "  Thanks  be  unto  God  who  giveth 
us  the  victory,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  The  victories 
of  our  great  Surety  are  all  ours  through  faith.  We  have 
already  conquered  before  the  battle.  We  triumph  now,  though 
the  field  is  yet  dusty  with  the  strife,  and  the  fiery  darts  are  whiz- 
zing around  our  heads  by  thousands  ;  and  even  in  defeat  we  are 
and  shall  continue  conquerors,  and  are  more  than  conquerors 


258  FRED.  WM.  kru:m]viacher. 

through  Ilim  that  has  loved  us.  Blessed  truth  !  precious  faith  I 
Where  this  faith  lives,  there  'courage  cannot  fail  when  the 
trumpet  sounds  for  the  battle  ;  and  should  we  sink  in  the  strife 
in  this  faith,  will  our  tottering  knees  be  soon  strengthened. 
"  Happy  art  thou,  0  Israel  I  who  is  like  unto  thee,  0  people 
saved  by  the  Lord,  the  shield  of  thy  help,  and  who  is  the  sword 
of  thy  excellence  ;  and  thine  enemies  shall  be  found  liars  unto 
thee,  and  thou  shalt  tread  upon  their  high  places." 


DISCOURSE    XIII. 
THE   PERIL   AND   SAFETY   OF   THE   CHUPvCH. 

"  Though  the  waters  thereof  roar  and  be  troubled,  though  the  mountains  shake  witli 
the  swelling  thereof,  [yet*]  there  is  a  river,  the  streams  whereof  shall  make  glad  the  city 
cf  God,  the  holy  place  of  the  tabernacles  of  the  Most  High.  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her  ; 
she  shall  not  be  moved:  God  shall  help  her,  and  that  right  early." — rsALMS  xlvi.  3-5. 

Our  Psalm  is  a  leap  with  God  over  the  wall ;  a  soaring  above 
the  heights  of  the  earth  ;  a  joyful  dance  before  the  Ark  of  the 
Covenant.  No  tone  of  complaint,  no  trace  of  anxiety,  is  to  be 
found  in  this  song  of  triumph  ;  though  it  may  have  been  sung 
in  time  of  distress  and  affliction.  The  song  breathes  only  the 
joyfulness  of  faith,  and  confidence  is  its  soul.  "  God  is  our 
refuge  and  strength,  a  very  present  help  in  trouble  ;"  so  the 
Psalm  begins.  "  The  Lord  of  hosts  is  with  us,  the  God  of  Jacob 
is  our  refuge  ;"  thus-  it  ends.  It  boasts  of  the  secure  condition 
of  the  people  of  God  ;  and  of  this  we  will  speak,  according  to 
the  indications  of  our  text,  in  this  last  morning  of  the  ecclesias- 
tical year.  We  consider  the  true  church,  according  to  its 
form: — a  city -^  its  situation — in  the  sea;  its  consolation — she 
shall  be  glad  ;  its  safety — God  is  in  the  midst  of  lier. 

I.  There  is  nothing  more  vexatious  and  intolerable  to  unbe- 
lievers, than  that  we  draw  so  marked  a  line  between  the  children 
of  God  and  the  children  of  the  world,  and  are  accustomed  to 


*  The  word  ye\  only  implied  in  the  English  version,  is  expressed  in  the  German. 

Trans. 


260  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACIIEE. 

represent  the  number  of  the  former  as  so  very  small  and  incon- 
siderable. But  we  cannot  he!])  it.  We  do  not  make  the  differ- 
ence ;  it  is  made  by  God  himself ;  and  is  deeply  rooted  in  the 
nature  and  essence  of  the  two  parties  ;  and  the  month  of  Truth 
itself  says,  in  several  places,  that  the  number  is  small  of  those 
who  are  saved.  Truly  all  that  are  called  are  not  chosen  ;  and 
not  every  one  belongs  to  the  true  church  who  bears  its  colors. 
Even  you,  our  enemies,  are  used  to  say  that  of  those  who  would 
be  Christians,  but  few  are  sincere.  And  you  may  be  in  the  right. 
After  deducting  the  .Canaanites,  the  false  brethren,  the  foolish 
Virgins,  who  have  lamps  but  not  oil ;  clouds  without  water  ; 
and  the  Issachars,  who  are  their  own  product,  and  not  that  of 
the  Spirit ;  there  remains  in  truth  but  a  small  seed — a  twink- 
ling star  in  the  vast  clouded  firmament  ;  a  cottage  in  a  garden 
of  cucumbers.  That  which  makes  a  true  Christian  is  not  a 
decent  conduct,  and  the  ornament  of  a  regular  observance  of  the 
outward  forms  of  religion  ;  it  is  not  the  retiring  from  the  diver- 
sions of  the  men  of  the  world,  and  the  language  of  Canaan  ;  it 
is  not  the  bowed  head  and  the  sullen  look.  Even  an  ortho- 
dox faith  is  not  sufficient.  "  There  are  many  persons,"  says 
somebody,  "  who,  with  a  little  heavenly  light,  wander  towards 
hell."  Poverty  of  spirit,  and  the  having  nothing,  willing  nothing, 
and  desiring  nothing  but  Jesus,  and  Jesus  only — the  man  upon 
the  cross.  His  blood  and  His  grace — and  this  from  the  bottom 
of  the  soul :  this  is  the  stamp  on  God's  coin.  Let  no  one,  then, 
mingle  chaff  and  wheat  together  ;  let  no  one  attempt  to  unite 
what  God  has  put  asunder. 

The  Great  Shepherd's  lamp-fold,  that  rose  among  thorns,  that 
grain  of  salt  amid  corruption,  is  called  in  our  text  "a  city  ;" 
and  that  a  city  of  God.  The  figure  is  familiar,  and  I  would  only 
say  a  few  words  by  way  of  illustration. 

Truly,  it  is  a  strange  city  ;  little  and  insignificant  ;  and  yet 
of  an  extent  like  the  world  in  which  we  live  ;  stretching  from 
one  pole  to  the  other.  But  it  will  be  one  day  gathered  together 
from  the  dispersion,  and  seen  in  one  spot,  in  all  its  beauty  and 


THE   PERIL    AND    SAFETY    OF   THE   CHUKCH.  261 

splendor.  EverythiDg  belonging  to  a  city  is  found  in  this  little 
city  of  God.  If  you  inquire  after  her  foundation,  it  is  a  Rock 
that  cannot  be  moved.  If  you  ask  after  her  wall,  it  is  one  of 
fire  and  life,  the  Lord  is  a  wall  of  fire  round  about  her  :  "  The 
angel  of  the  Lord  encamps  round  them  that  fear  Him."  If  you 
ask  for  her  bastions,  defences  and  palisades,  they  are  the  perfec- 
tions of  our  God  that  are  round  about  us  :  His  wisdom  to  guide 
us  ;  his  omnipotence  to  protect  us  ;  His  long-suffering  to  bear 
with  us  ;  and  His  grace,  to  justify  and  save  us.  Only  one  gate 
has  the  city,  and  that  is  strait ;  only  one  way  that  leads  to  it, 
and  that  is  narrow.  Whoever  attempts  to  enter  by  another 
way,  by  stealth  or  by  storm,  over  the  walls  or  through  the 
roof,  he  is  a  thief  and  a  robber.  When  we  look  out  of  our  win- 
dows, our  eyes  fall  on  beloved  mountains,  on  holy  j^laces.  Here 
lies  Golgotha,  there  the  Mount  of  Olives  ;  here  Gcthsemane, 
there  Bethlehem  Ephrata — all  dear  places,  that  ever  lie  close 
about  us  :  our  city,  therefore,  is  Jerusalem. 

The  city  has  its  festivals  :  for  instance,  when  a  poor  sinner 
repenteth  ;  its  assemblies,  when  the  brethren  live  together  in 
unity,  and  Jesus  is  in  the  midst  of  them  ;  its  concerts,  when  they 
speak  together  in  psalms,  and  hymns,  and  spiritual  songs,  and 
Jesus  touches  the  harp-chords  of  their  hearts  ;  and  its  spectacles, 
when  they  sit  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  beholding  the  Man  with 
the  crown  of  thorns,  and  His  holy  blood,  as,  making  atonement 
for  sin,  it  drips  from  His  wounds. 

The  city  has  likewise  its  market-place  ;  there  it  is  proclaimed, 
"  Come,  ye  that  have  no  money  ;  come,  buy  and  eat  ;  yea,  come, 
buy  wine  and  milk,  without  money  and  without  price."  It  has 
also  its  council-chamber,  where  one  presides  who  knows  how  to 
give  good  counsel.  Its  police,  too  :  this  every  citizen  has  in  hi^ 
heart — the  controlling  power  of  the  Spirit.  Has  it,  also,  its 
watchmen  ?  Surely  it  has  :  they  stand  on  the  walls  and  blow 
the  trumpet,  and  raise  the  shout  when  they  see  the  Bridegroom 
coming. .  And  here  and  there  stand  guards  upon  the  watch- 
towers,  placed  there  by  God,  to  see  what  hour  the  great  clock 


262  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHEE. 

of  time  has  struck.  And  what  say  they — these  guards  of  our 
days  ?  "  Midnight  is  the  hour  !  Past  midnight,"  they  cry  from 
the  housetops,  and  the  whole  city  is  full  of  the  things  which  are 
to  come  to  pass. 

In  this  city,  now,  as  the  text  says,  is  found  "  the  holy  place 
of  the  tabernacles  of  the  Most  High."  Now,  indeed,  every  house 
where  dwells  a  child  of  God,  is  also  a  house  of  God  :  for  the 
Lord  dwells  with  His  own,  under  one  roof.  Nay,  every  believer 
is  a  living  temple.  It  is  written,  ''  I  live  ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me."  By  the  holy  tabernacles  we  are  to  understand  the 
various  conditions  and  states  of  the  soul,  in  which  the  saints  are 
placed  by  the  ordinances  of  God.  There  is  one,  well  lodged  in 
the  lofty  rock  of  pure  faith,  where,  untroubled  about  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  the  feelings  of  his  heart,  and  raised  far  above  all  the 
alternations  of  spiritual  temperature  in  his  soul,  he  sings,  with 
Asaph,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  !  and  there  is  none 
upon  earth  that  I  desire  beside  Thee."  Another  must  make  shift 
in  the  cave  of  Adullam,  and  must,  year  out  and  year  in,  eat  his 
bread  with  tears,  and  find  no  consolation.  Some  dwell  in  the 
spacious  pavilions  of  a  sweet,  heartfelt  communion  with  the 
Lord,  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  His  love,  and  deeply  feeling  the 
refreshing  beams  of  His  countenance  shining  into  their  souls  ;  so 
that  they  can  exclaim  :  "  It  is  good  for  us  to  be  here — here  let 
us  build  tabernacles."  Others,  on  the  contrary,  are  pent  up  in 
narrow,  dark  cells,  and  are  compelled  to  dwell  between  darkness 
and  doubt :  their  daily  task  is  combat  and  conflict,  labor  and  pain  ; 
and  their  breath  a  gush  of  sighs  :  so  that  they  must  be  heartily 
glad  when  a  faint  ray  of  hope  shines  upon  their  gloom. 

Oh  I  various  are  the  dwelling-places  in  the  city  of  God.  One 
sits  under  the  juniper,  another  under  the  apple-tree  r  one  in  the 
desert,  another  in  the  garden  of  roses  ;  one  in  the  cool  arbor, 
another,  like  a  fugitive,  trembling  dove,  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock  ; 
one  in  the  tent,  another  in  the  vineyard  ;  and  wherever  else  they 
may  sit  and  house.  But  all  have  their  windows  to  the  East ;  and 
wherever  each  happens  to  dwell  with  his  soul,  in  whatever  con- 


THE   PERIL    AND    SAFETY    OF   THE   CIIDECn.  •    263 

dition  or  situation,  he  there  dwells  happily.  God  has  directed 
him  ;  and  therefore  his  dwelling  is  holy — a  dwelling  of  God. 
Ah  I  indeed,  and  this  would  be  so,  even  were  it  a  narrow  dun- 
geon, or  a  dark  pit,  if  only  the  pit  be  in  the  city  of  God.  For 
we  know  whither  we  are  going  :  our  stay  on  earth  is  but  a  short 
sojourn  ;  beyond  Jordan,  better  tabernacles  are  waiting  to 
receive  us. 

Lastly,  our  text  speaks  of  "  streams  that  flow  into  the  city  of 
God  -y  and  we  know  that  the  house  of  David  and  the  citizens  of 
Jerusalem  have  one  main  fountain,  which  is  free  and  open, 
against  all  impurity  and  sin,  and  its  name  is  Immanuel.  Four 
nails  and  a  spear  have  opened  it  :  now  it  flows  with  exceeding 
abundance  ;  and  though  people  have  bathed  in  it,  and  drunk  of 
it,  for  thousands  of  years,  yet  its  waters  have  not  diminished. 
Around  this  fountain  of  health,  the  city  is  continually  assembled, 
with  buckets  of  faith  and  bowls  of  prayer  ;  and  every  cripple 
and  beggar  is  allowed  to  draw  from  it  as  much  as  he  pleases  for 
his  daily  use.  Our  fountain  never  dries  up,  never  freezes  ;  and 
if,  at  times,  it  seems  as  if  we,  with  our  buckets,  struck  upon  a 
hard  ice-crust  instead  of  into  the  water,  yet  is  this  only  a  seem- 
ing ;  our  thirst  is  notwithstanding  quenched,  and  the  water  only 
flows  secretly  and  covertly  into  our  souls. 

This  well  of  Jacob  nourishes  and  refreshes  us  as  it  pleases  it  ; 
sometimes  sensibly,  sometimes  secretly  ;  sometimes  in  immediate 
influxes,  sometimes  throuG^h  various  channels  and  interveninor 
pipes — as,  through  the  word  or  sacrament,  through  the  mouth  of 
the  brethren,  or  through  their  experience  and  course  of  life  ;  some- 
times through  a  sign  or  image  of  nature,  as,  Noah,  through  the 
rainbow  ;  sometimes  through  a  providence  in  our  life,  or  through 
whatever  else  may  happen.  In  a  thousand  little  brooks,  it  pours 
its  healing  waves  through  the  holy  city  ;  and  it  so  happens  that 
almost  every  citizen  of  Jerusalem,  aside  from  the  general  foun- 
tain, has  yet  a  special  brooklet  welling  up  at  his  door,  to  refresh 
him.  One  experiences  the  hearing  of  a  prayer,  in  which  he 
possessed,  as  long  as  he  lives,  a  private  treasure,  and  a  fountain 


264    •  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACnER. 

in  his  chamber,  which  every  day  revives  and  invigorates  his 
courage.  Another  feels  some  promise  singularly  established  and 
sealed  in  his  heart ;  so  that  to  the  end  of  his  days  it  is  to  him 
bread  and  water,  and  a  pilgrim's  staff  in  his  right  hand.  One 
has  a  consoling  verse,  which  makes  music  for  him  all  his  days, 
and  is  more  to  him  than  David's  harp  to  King  Saul.  Another 
sees  a  vision,  and  hears  a  voice,  or  whatever  else  he  may  see,  or 
hear  before  his  inward  ear,  perceive  or  experience  within  :  and 
this  is  a  fountain  in  his  house  and  chamber,  which  raises  his 
head  and  keeps  his  leaves  fresh  and  green,  when  the  dry  year 
has  come,  and  the  dear  time  has  broken  in.  In  a  word,  hunger 
and  thirst  are  not  to  be  thought  of  on  the  Rock  of  Zion.  Bread 
is  given  unto  each  one,  and  his  water  is  sure. 

II.  After  having  taken  a  view  of  the  city,  we  now  inquire 
after  its  situation  ;  and  we  learn  from  the  text  that  it  lies  in  a 
roaring  sea,  and  that  the  surf  beats  against  its  walls.  So  has  it 
always  lain  ;  and  at  all  times  has  it  been  compared  with  the 
ship  on  the  sea  of  Galilee,  in  which  the  disciples  cry,  "  Lord, 
save  us  ;  we  perish  !"  But  the  Lord  commanded  the  storm  and 
the  waves,  so  that  they  passed  over  in  safety.  At  one  time  the 
sea  has  beaten  more  furiously  than  at  others;  nay,  there  have  been 
times  when  it  really  appeared  as  if  the  city  were  entirely  swal- 
lowed up,  and  buried  in  the  deep  ;  and  ere  one  was  aware  of  it, 
it  rose  like  a  green  and  lovely  island  up  from  the  surrounding 
waters,  and  laughed  at  the  winds  and  the  floods. 

In  our  days  the  city  of  God  still  lies  in  the  sea,  and  in  the 
very  midst  of  it,  as  it  never  lay  before,  God  knows  1  The  ene- 
mies of  the  Cross  all  around  are  this  sea.  Who  can  discern  the 
bounds  of  this  ocean,  which  has  cast  us  up  ?  who  can  fathom  the 
depth  of  their  enmity,  rancor,  perfidy,  and  malice  ?  Here  and 
there  is  there  a  storm  upon  the  sea,  and  wild  commotion .  Hear 
how  the  waves  of  false  philosophy  and  godless  exposition  foam 
up  more  and  more  frantically  against  the  sacred  walls  !  Sec 
how  the  floods  of  hatred  to  Christ  roll  more  and  more  madly  and 


THE    TERIL    AND    SAFETY    OF   THE    CIIUKCII.  265 

furiously  over  the  face  of  the  earth  1  Behold  how  the  enemies 
more  and  more  eagerly  exert  all  the  powers  of  intellect — all  arts, 
to  wage  a  war  of  extermination  against  the  kingdom  of  the 
Lord — against  the  poor  company  of  Israel,  and  his  cause  !  Al- 
ready we  see  here  and  there  a  foaming  of  rage,  and  here  a 
gnashing  of  teeth,  against  the  fold  of  Christ  ;  as  if  the  com- 
plete outburst  of  their  fury  could  no  longer  be  restrained.  In- 
vention is  at  a  loss  to  find  new  terms  of  abuse  and  reprobation 
to  heap  upon  them  ;  they  are  already  spoken  of  as  plague-spots, 
which  afflict  mankind,  and  which,  if  no  other  means  can  be 
found,  must  be  extirpated  with  fire  and  sword. 

A  frightful  and  unbroken  cry  of  "  Crucify  !  crucify  I"  sounds 
through  the  world  against  Jesus  and  his  people.  Crucify  1  cries 
Fashion,  which  is  already  almost  ashamed  of  the  Christian  name, 
as  a  blemish,  and  has  raised  Anti-christianity  to  the  rank  of  the 
religion  of  the  polite  world.  Crucify  !  cries  polite  Etiquette,  in  the 
assemblies  and  circles  of  the  great,  whence  Christ  has  long  since 
been  banished,  and  where  no  Christian  can  enter  toll  free,  and 
without  scorning  and  upturning  of  the  nose.  Crucify !  cry  a 
thousand  priests  of  Baal,  who  will  have  nothing  but  morality  ;  no 
Christ,  no  cross,  no  blood,  no  grace.  Crucify  !  cry  almost  all  the 
journals,  while  they  without  ceasing  open  their  batteries  against 
true  Claristianity.  Nay,  to  whatever  side  we  turn  our  ears,  to 
books  and  writings,  to  companies  and  circles,  to  the  assemblies 
of  the  great  and  the  polished,  or  the  drinking-rooms  of  the  vul- 
gar and  the  low,  to  the  workshops  of  the  mechanics  or  to  the 
cabinets  of  men  in  office,  and  the  counting-houses  of  the  mer- 
chants— nay,  even  to  lectures  of  professors,  or  the  sermons  of 
preachers — wherever  we  turn — ere  we  hear  one  "  Hosannah  to 
the  son  of  David,"  the  fatal  Crucify,  crucify,  rudely  or  politely, 
covertly  or  openly,  a  hundred  or  a  thousand  times  assaults  your 
ears.  Thus  do  matters  stand  :  so  rage  the  waves  of  that  sea 
whose  breakers  roar  around  the  city  of  our  God. 

But,  my  brethren,  it  will  yet  be  worse.  God's  watchmen  pro- 
claim it  from  the  battlements,  and  more  than  one  sign  of  these 

12 


2G6  FEED.    WM.    KRUM3IACHER. 

times  iudicates  that  the  prophecy  is  hastening  to  its  accomplish- 
ment. The  paper  waves  will  one  day  become  billows  of  fire,  and 
the  hissing  of  the  sea,  roaring  and  howling.  Vast  tracts  of  the 
ocean  around  Zion  lie  even  now  still  and  motionless  :  only  in  the 
depths  below,  it  boils,  and  storms,  and  rages.  A  fearful  mass 
of  rage  and  rancor  has  gradually  collected  against  the  Cross 
and  its  followers,  and  this  powder  magazine  waits  but  for  the 
match,  to  blow  up  v/ith  a  fearful  explosion.  The  thousands  that 
have  already  become  Anti-christiaus,  must  still  devour  their  gall 
and  bitterness.  The  waves  of  Babel,  which  lie  round  Jerusalem 
like  a  calm,  deep,  treacherous  sea,  still  lurk  behind  the  dams  ; 
their  fury  is  yet  stayed.  But  who  can  tell  how  much  longer  ? 
Everything  indicates  that  the  time  of  a  universal  break  of 
the  dams  and  bars  is  at  hand,  and  that  the  great  hour  of 
temptation  is  no  longer  distant.  The  sea  is  already  prepared 
for  a  dreadful  commotion  :  birds  of  ill  omen,  the  precur- 
sors of  the  storm,  already  fly  about  with  piercing  cries  that 
forebode  nothing  good.  I  will  not  *name  the  blood-thirsty  In- 
quisition in  the  West ;  how  it  rises  with  renewed  vigor  from  its 
tomb,  and  is  exerting  itself  to  the  utmost  to  reestablish  the 
tribunals  against  heretics.  I  will  not  name  those  missionaries, 
who  with  mad  fanaticism  rage  through  the  neighboring  kingdom 
of  France.  I  will  not  name  Jesuitism,  how  it  is  again  carrying 
on  its  intrigues,  and  in  some  parts  is  aiming  at  such  a  degree  of 
power  and  influence,  that  there  is  but  too  much  foundation  for 
the  alarm  with  which  the  church  looks  upon  its  efforts.  I  will 
not  speak  of  the  blood-red  sky  in  the  South,  of  which  no  politi- 
cian can  calculate  what  it  may  bring  forth,  or  how  it  may  yet 
spread  the  glare  of  its  fires.  I  will  not  dwell  on  the  notes 
sounded  by  the  trumpet  of  God,  which  in  this  time  of  agitation 
announces  serious  events.  Enough  I  there  is  no  want  of  indica- 
tions of  the  most  alarming  kind,  of  screaming  storm-birds  on  the 
ocean  of  our  times  ;  and  tokens  of  the  most  manifest  character 
unite  to  presage  to  the  city  of  our  God  a  day  which  shall  burn 
like  an  oven,  and  glow  like  a  furnace. 


TIIE   TERIL   AND    SAFETY    OF   TKE   CIIUKCII.  207 

It  is  true,  that  many  mouutains  still  stand  round  about  us,  as 
ice  and  water-breakers,  and  many  a  bill  to  protect  the  city  of 
God.  Thus  in  our  country  we  have  as  a  bulwark  against  the 
invasions  of  Babel,  and  against  Anti-christian  attacks,  an  Evan- 
gelical King,  who  is  steadfastly  attached  to  the  true  faith  ;  and 
against  the  false  prophet  without,  and  his  fanatical  operations, 
we  have  horses  and  horsemen  from  many  quarters.  As  a  dam 
against  the  floods  of  false  doctrine,  we  have  the  Bible  Society, 
with  its  far-spreading  branches  ;  and  for  the  enlargement  and 
fortifying  of  our  city  of  God,  we  have  the  invaluable  mission, 
and  hosts  of  Evangelical  teachers.  To  nourish,  strengthen,  and 
refresh  us,  we  have  our  beautiful  Divine  Service,  and  the  preach- 
ing of  the  unadulterated  Gospel.  For  our  encouragement,  we 
have  beloved  men  of  God,  who  zealously  blow  the  trumpet 
around  us,  and  encouragingly  take  us  by  the  hand.  But  who 
will  be  our  security,  that,  before  we  are  aware,  these  mountains 
shall  not  also  fall,  those  hills  give  way  also,  and  all  our  supports 
sink  into  the  breach  ?  Then  the  waves  of  the  sea  might  have 
their  free  course,  and  the  city  of  God  might  be  destroyed. 
Destroyed  ?     No  !  not  so  ;  God  forbid  I 

III.  Hear  what  the  sweet  singer  says  in  our  Psalm  :  "  Though 
the  waters  thereof  roar  and  be  troubled,  though  the  mountains 
shake  with  the  swelling  thereof;  [yet]  there  is  a  river,  the 
streams  whereof  shall  make  glad  the  city  of  God,  the  holy  place 
of  the  tabernacles  of  the  Most  High."  Oh  I  what  words  of 
comfort  I  Are  they  not  like  a  golden  rainbow  in  the  clouds, 
and  like  a  float  to  the  net,  to  keep  it  above  water  ?  They  are 
sufficient  at  once  to  overcome  all  faint-heartedness,  and  to  put 
to  flight  a  v,-hole  host  of  misgivings.  It  is  not  the  word  of  man, 
but  the  word  of  God,  delivered  by  the  mouth  of  man  ;  and 
hence  the  power  with  which  it  is  endowed.  "  Yet  !"  Oh,  a 
precious  "  yet  I"  This  "  Yet"  of  our  God,  is  more  than  these 
mountains  and  hills,  which  it,  in  fact,  renders  unnecessary.  If 
we  have  this  "Yet"  in  the  hand  of  faith,  what  should  alarm 


268  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHEK. 

and  make  us  uneasy?  With  this  *'Yet"  we  take  from  the 
storms  their  terrors,  and  from  the  fiery  waves  their  fearfulness. 
With  this  "  Yet,"  we  may  stand  with  confidence  on  our  walls  ; 
and,  however  gloomy  the  prospect,  however  the  thunder-clouds 
may  lower  and  the  deep  roar,  we  proclaim  this  "  Yet"  of  our 
Lord  ;  and  though  the  storm  were  never  so  great  and  awful,  so 
severe  that  voices  should  call  to  us  on  all  sides,  "  You  are  fools, 
to  hope  where  no  hope  is,"  we  will  not  be  confounded  :  our 
watchword  is  "  Yet,  Yet  ;"  and  we  answer,  "  What  is  impossible 
must  become  possible,  sooner  than  that  the  city  of  God  shall 
not  be  glad  with  its  streams."  He  has  spoken  the  word,  and  He 
is  the  Amen. 

And  now,  consider  what  unheard  of  things  are  here  promised 
to  the  congregation  of  God.  Not  only  that  they  shall  abide  in 
the  hour  of  temptation,  and  be  preserved  from  despondency  and 
backsliding  :  but  tliey  shall  even  be  gla,d  with  their  streams, 
and  bloom  yet  more  fair  than  in  times  of  peace.  There  are  but 
few  rejoicing  Christians,  yet  we  learn  that  it  is  no  sin  to  be  joy- 
ful in  God.  He  who  has  no  occasion  to  mourn,  may  lift  up  his 
head,  and  need  not  bow  it  down  like  a  bulrush.  We  have  cause 
and  reason  enough  to  be  glad  in  the  Lord,  and  to  pass  through 
life  with  a  joyful  spirit.  For  what  do  we  yet  want,  we  who 
are  in  Christ  ;  and  in  Him  have  all  that  heart  can  desire  ;  we 
who  go  clothed  in  the  purple  of  our  King,  and  in  his  robe  are 
glorious  before  the  eyes  of  God  ;  we  who  know  that  our  names 
are  written  in  the  book  of  life,  and  that  our  souls  are  in  hands 
from  which  nothing  and  nobody  can  pluck  them  away  ;  we 
who  have  the  assurance  that  He  has  always  loved  us,  and  that 
He  will  keep  that  which  we  have  committed  to  Him  against 
that  day  ;  we  wlio  are  certain  that  all  our  enemies  already  lie 
vanquished  under  our  feet,  and  that  one  day,  adorned  with  the 
victor-crowns  of  our  surety,  we  shall  cast  anchor  on  the  golden 
coast  of  the  promised  Land  ?  Nay,  if  we  could,  we  might  sit 
from  morning  till  evening  at  the  harp,  and  none  could  justly 
reproach  us  for  being  so  glad.     If  we  could,  our  whole  life  might 


THE   PERIL    AND    SAFETY    OF   THE   CIIUECII.  269 

be*  a  dance,  like  tliat  of  David  before  the  Ark  of  tlie  Covenant ; 
and  we  might  be  drunk  with  the  wine  of  the  house  of  God, 
and,  as  Zcchariah  says,  "  make  a  noise  as  through  wine,  and  be 
filled  like  bowls,  and  as  the  corners  of  the  altar."  God  would  '; 
have  nothing  against  it  ;  He  would  have  pleasure  in  it.  But  \ 
the  eye  of  our  faith  is  so  dim,  and  the  hand  of  our  conGdcnce 
takes  such  loose  hold  ;  we  look  more  to  ourselves  than  to 
Christ,  and  will  not  seek  in  Him  alone,  but  would  also  find 
something  in  ourselves  :  and  hence  it  comes,  that  with  all  our 
riches,  we  are  so  poor  in  joy  ;  and  that  our  treasure  which  we 
have  through  grace,  is  like  a  talent  buried  in  the  earth,  from 
'which  we  do  not  even  get  the  interest ;  and  our  life  is  miser- 
able, like  that  of  a  poor  beggar,  and  yet  we  are  told,  "  All  is 
yours." 

This  w^retched  life,  however,  shall  one  day  cease  in  the  city 
of  God  on  earth  ;  and,  w^onderful  to  tell  !  just  at  the  moment 
when  it  should  seem  to  be  only  beginning  in  earnest— namely, 
when  the  sea  around  foams  and  rages  in  the  height  of  its  fury, 
and  the  mountains  shake  with  the  swelling  thereof.     But  thus, 
too,  it  often  fares  with  the  individual  Christian.     When  fierce  | 
temptations  assail  him,  so  that  all  his  supports  give  way,  and  ^ 
all  the  mountains  and  hills  of  his  own  power  and  will,  and  of  his    I 
own   righteousness,  are    overthrown,  so   that  he   must   wholly    I 
lean  on  Christ,  and  be  content  with  His  grace  ;  then,  and  not    I 
till  then,  he  becomes  glad.     And  so  has  it  fared  with  the  church 
of  God  on  earth  up  to  this  very  day.     Never  has  she  blossomed 
more  fair,  never  has  she  shone  in  the  night  with  brighter  splen- 
dor, than  in  evil  days,  and  of  the  time  of  persecution.     Read  the 
history  of  the  church  ;  it  is  even  so.     The  most  glorious  stars  in 
the  firmament  of  the  church,  the  most  joyful  confessors  of  the  faith, 
became  great  amid  storms  and  tempest ;   and  never  has  the 
Bride  of  the  Lamb  on  earth  stood  forth  more  gloriously  adorned- 
than  in  the  times  of  martyrdom,  and  of  the  martyrs  whose  foot- 
steps still  shine  up  to  this  day.  Their  souls  were  naturally  weak  ; 
and  when  we  are  weak,  then  we   are   strong:   then  nothing 


270  FEED.    WM.    KEUMMACHEE. 

remained  to  them  but  to  go  out  of  themselves,  and  to  bide  them- 
selves in  Christ ;  and  in  Christ  we  can  do  all  things.  And, 
indeed,  if  the  Lord  be  ever  out  on  the  field  among  His  j^eople 
with  His  Spirit  and  His  gifts,  it  is  in  such  days  of  distress  a.nd 
affliction,  when  the  sea  roars  and  rages,  and  the  mountains 
shake.  Then  He  opens  more  wide  the  flood-gates  of  His  divine 
power,  and  His  refreshing  streams  flow  more  abundantly,  and 
keep  equal  course  with  the  sea  of  troubles  and  afflictions  ;  the 
more  violent  the  latter,  the  richer  are  the  former,  for  the  city 
of  God  shall  be  "  glad  with  its  streams." 

And  so,  probably,  matters  will  not  change  with  the  city  of 
God  in  our  vale  ;  which,  on  the  whole,  actually  appears  right 
meagre,  poor,  and  miserable,  and  is  closely  covered  and  hidden. 
Yes,  truly  ;  so  long  as  the  good  days  last,  so  long  ye  may 
go  about  languid  and  faint  ;  so  long  ye  may  be  so  full  of  com- 
plaints with  your  riches,  and  so  bowed  down  with  your  treasures, 
so  cold  in  the  embraces  of  your  Bridegroom,  so  lukewarm  and 
indifferent  in  the  confession  of  His  name  ;  so  long  you  are 
permitted  to  continue  your  disputes  and  dissensions,  to  carry 
on  your  petty  wars  of  opinion,  and  to  indulge  in  idle  specu- 
lations. But,  I  answer  for  it,  at  the  first  sound  of  the  trumpet 
that  shall  announce  to  you  the  approach  of  the  hour  of  temj^ta- 
tion,  at  the  first  deluge  of  the  waves  of  the  great  struggle, 
which  shall  break  in  upon  our  valley,  everything  will  be 
suddenly  changed,  and  the  city  be  glad  with  her  streams. 

Dissension  will  cease,  and  there  will  be  a  holding  together 

'  and  unity  in  love,  such  as  will  astonish  the  world.     There  will 

!  be  no  more  disputing  about  the  restoration  of  all  things  ;  or 

I  whether  there  will  be  a  third  place,  etc.  ;  but  all  will  regard 

I  one   place    only,  Jesus  !    Jesus  ! — and  be   anxious   only  about 

complete  restoration  to  His  favor.  His  blood,  and  His  wounds  ; 

I  and  in  this  strong-hold  that  which  was  separated  will  again  be 

united.      Then  the  covering  will  be  removed,  and  the  gentle 

dove  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock  will  be  seen  to  soar  as  with  eagle's 

wings,  and  sucklings  shall  be  as  the  horses  caparisoned  for  the 


THE    TERIL    AND    SAFETY    OF    THE    CIIUIiCH.  271 

battle  ;  and,  as  the  Prophet  says,  they  shall  clevour  and  subdue 
with  sling-stones.  For,  "  though  the  sea  roars  and  is  troubled, 
and  the  mountains  shake,  there  is  a  river  the  streams  whereof 
make  glad  the  city  of  God  !" 

IV.  Oh,  what  a  glorious  prospect  for  the  city  of  God,  though 
the  sky  is  darkened,  and  the  clouds  lower  and  threaten  I  How 
secure  does  the  fair  city  lie,  tifough  in  the  midst  of  the  sea, 
whose  waves  dash  furiously  against  her  walls  !  The  ground  of 
her  security,  however,  is  not  in  herself,  but  in  that  Kock  ou 
which  she  is  founded.  "  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her,"  sings  the 
holy  Psalmist,  and  "helps  her  early:"  "God  is  in  the  midst 
of  her,"  as  He  is  in  each  individual  member  ;  always  working, 
not  always  felt  ;  always  active,  not  always  to  be  traced  ;  iuces- 1 
santly  sustaining,  frequently  without  our  knowledge  ;  constantly  ^ 
blessing  and  fructifying,  not  always  according  to  our  wish,  and 
often  in  secret.  But  He  is  always  at  hand.  "This  is  my  rest 
for  ever  ;  here  will  I  dwell." 

Blessed,  my  brethren,  are  the  eyes  that  see  what  we  see. 
Behold,  one  pole  shouts  it  to  the  other  ;  the  east  proclaims  it 
to  the  west,  "  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her."  Oh,  how  majestic 
is  the  step  with  which  He  this  day  again  marches  through  the 
world,  not  that  He  may  judge  the  world,  but  that  He  may 
surround  it  with  the  bulwarks  of  His  holy  city,  and,  over 
mountain  and  sea  stretch  forth  the  curtains  of  His  habitations  I 
The  prince  of  this  world  is  cast  out,  and  we  see  with  rejoicing 
how  the  strong,  pressed  by  the  Stronger,  is  forced  to  yield  one 
j^rovince  after  another.  Not  a  hoof  remains  behind  of  what  the 
Father  has  given  to  the  Son.  How  does  the  faithful  Shepherd 
call  His  sheep,  and  they  hasten  from  every  desert,  and  every 
rock,  to  fall  on  His  breast  and  repose  in  His  bosom  ?  How 
diligently  does  the  great  Eeaper  ply  the  sickle  in  His  harvest 
field,  and  bring  in  the  sheaves  in  abundance,  as  if  winter  were 
at  hand,  and  haste  were  necessary  that  the  last  fruits  might  be 
brought  home  1    Islands,  that  for  thousands  of  years  have  awaited 


272  I'RKD.    WM.    KKUMMACHEK. 

Ilis  comiug,  quiver  with  joy  at  the  sound  of  His  feet ;  and  dark 
heathen  plains  grow  light,  because  their  Light  is  come,  and  they 
greet  with  hosaunas  and  hallelujahs  the  day-spring  from  on 
high.  The  Hottentot  sees  the  golden  bark  of  the  dearest  of  all 
guests  land  on  his  shores,  and  with  bended  knees  welcomes  the 
Lord  of  glory.  The  man  at  the  North  Pole  grows  warm  upon 
the  mother-heart  of  the  most  faithful  Shepherd,  and  his  ice- 
bound world  blooms  like  a  ]*aradise,  now  that  the  Prince  of 
Peace  has  entered.  Yes,  His  footsteps  are  bright  and  glorious  ; 
and  mighty  voices  proclaim  from  land  to  land  :  "  God  is  in  the 
midst  of  her." 

Nor  has  He  forgotten  us — no,  not  even  us — and  though  He 
walks  about  more  lightly  of  late,  and  less  in  the  noon-day  than 
in  former  times,  yet  His  footsteps  are  still  in  the  valley,  and  we 
hear  the  tinkling  of  the  bells  that  hang  to  his  priestly  robe.  If 
but  a  few  were  added  to  Ills  flock  during  the  past  year — and 
you  well  know,  my  beloved,  that  in  this  point  we  must  not  pre- 
scribe to  Him,  but  leave  Him  to  take  His  own  course  ;  for  herein 
He  faithfully  follows  a  plan  delivered  to  Him  in  a  holy  Council 
before  the  world  began — yet  He  has  given  manifold  evidences  of 
His  presence  in  other  ways.  He  has  strengthened  the  weary 
hands  of  the  one,  and  upheld  the  sinking  knees  of  another.  The 
suckling  in  spirit  has  He  borne  in  the  arms  of  His  love,  and 
counseled  in  due  season  those  who  struggled  in  doubt.  He  has 
brought  one  from  the  night  of  temptation  into  His  light,  and 
has  bestowed  upon  another  the  crown  of  victory,  after  the  fight. 
One  he  has  made  to  hear  His  glad  voice,  saying,  "  Be  of  good 
cheer,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee  1"  so  that  being  now  healed,  he 
goes  on  his  way  rejoicing  ; — while  by  another  providence  he  has 
relieved  the  heart  of  a  second  from  its  heavy  burden.  Thus 
there  arc,  doubtless,  many  in  the  midst  of  us  to-day,  with  cheer- 
ful, yet  penitent  countenances,  who  acknowledge  with  joy  and 
humility,  "  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  me.  Yea,  the 
Lord  is  in  the  midst  of  us — therefore  have  I  not  been  removed." 
And  truly,  my  beloved  brethren,  is  not  it  an  irrefragable  proof 


THE    PERIL    AND    SAFETY    OF   THE   CIIUECH.  273 

that  Immanuel  was  in  the  midst  of  us,  that  we  have  not  been 
removed,  that  we  still  remain  together  on  Jesus's  bosom  and 
under  Jesus's  banner,  thoiigh  the  devil  daily  roars  around  as  if 
he  would  devour  us  ? 

And  see  I  how  many  a  bed  of  j^ain  is  in  the  midst  of  us, 
where  the  bush  of  thorns  has  burned  the  whole  year  througli, 
and  yet  has  not  been  consumed  ;  how  many  a  miserable  family, 
where  all  was  wanting,  and  yet  the  barrel  of  meal  did  not  waste, 
nor  the  cruse  of  oil  fail ;  how  many  a  pilgrim  who  knew  not 
what  way  to  take,  and  yet  now  has  passed  Jordan  ;  how  many 
a  Jonah,  who  had  already  gone  down  to  the  very  bottoms  of  the 
mountains,  now  stands  joyful  and  glorifying  God  on  the  shore  I 
For  the  prosperity  of  our  Christian  Institutions  ;  the  happy 
success,  far  beyond  all  expectation,  of  our  efforts  in  the  cause 
of  God,  behold  monument  on  monument,  witness  upon  witness, 
praising  His  grace,  and  loudly  proclaiming,  in  the  triumphant 
language  of  our  Psalm,  ''  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her  !" 

And  so  long  as  a  tent  of  Kedar  shall  stand  in  our  valley.  He 
will  not  depart  from  our  valley.  Jerusalem  is  His  habitation 
and  His  rest  forever.  Therefore  let  us  not  fear,  since  the  Kock 
of  Jacob  is  with  us,  and  such  a  bulwark  is  raised  around  us. 
He  who  bears  arms  against  us,  contends  with  God  ;  and  it  is 
dangerous  to  take  the  field  against  Him.  Sooner  shall  the  thorns 
overcome  the  fire,  and  the  chaff  resist  the  storm,  than  hell 
triumph  over  us,  who  have  such  a  Defender. 

"  He  helps  her  early,"  sings  the  sacred  minstrel :  and  truly 
this  is  the  manner  of  our  God.  His  help  generally  appears  as 
the  dawn  of  the  morning  after  the  night.  His  light,  says  the 
Psalmist,  breaks  forth  as  the  morning  ;  and  "  weeping  may 
endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning."  After  the 
gloom  of  repentance  He  gave  us  the  kiss  of  love  ;  after  the  night 
of  combat.  He  crowned  us  with  victory  ;  His  glory  shone  upon 
us  in  the  cave  of  Adullam  ;  and  after  w^restliug  till  break  of  day, 
Jacob  received  His  blessing.  Therefore,  let  us  not  be  afraid,  if 
a  day  of  darkness  and  clouds  should  come  over  us  ;  He  helps 

12* 


274:  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHER. 

US  early  ;  and  so  often  as  our  sky  is  overcast,  it  is  only  that  the 
sun  may  afterwards  shine  on  us  with  more  welcome  and  vivifying 
splendor.  ^  And  in  the  darkness  itself  there  is  a  blessing,  a  salu- 
tary seed  in  afiaiction.  The  church  of  God  is  like  a  palm-tree, 
which  flourishes  the  more  vigorously  the  more  it  is  pressed  down. 
Every  embarrassment  is  to  her  but  as  the  weight  to  the  clock, 
wiiich  keeps  it  going  ;  and  the  most  violent  storms  are  to  the 
church  but  a  brisk  wind  in  the  sails,  which  impels  the  vessel  more 
rapidly  towards  the  harbor.  '.  And  beyond  her  strength  she  is 
never  tried — beyond  her  own,  indeed,  she  may  be,  but  not 
beyond  that  which  He  lends  us — and  as  for  the  desolation  of 
Zion,  it  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  thought  of.  The  city  stands 
fast  and  immovable,  like  the  Mercy  on  w^hich  it  is  founded,  and 
the  Faithfulness  which  bears  it  up.  "  Not  a  bone  of  Him  shall 
be  broken,"  is  it  written  of  our  Immanuel.  This  word  is  in 
force  even  unto  this  day.  We  are  "bone  of  His  bone  :"  who 
shall  hurt  us  ?     ^ 

May  the  Lord  strengthen  us  in  the  faith,  that  w^e  may  w^alk 
cheerfully  under  the  dark  sky  of  this  world,  looking  up  to  the 
glorious  stars  of  promise  that  He  has  placed  amid  the  clouds  I 
In  this  faith  may  He  inclose  us  as  in  a  fortress,  so  long  as  we 
weep  in  this  vale  of  fogs  and  storms  !  In  this  faith  we  repose 
amid  the  waves  of  temptation,  like  Noah  in  his  Ark.  In  this 
faith  we  are  secure  like  a  hero  in  his  armor.  Who  will  venture 
to  attack  us  ? 

A  ship  by  Avinds  and  waves  in  vain  assailed; 
Adventurer  bold,  whose  courage  ne'er  has  failed; 
Gold  in  the  fiery  furnace  made  more  bright ; 
A  sliield  of  adamant  the  foes  to  fright; 
Hero  of  God,  that  ne'er  has  lost  the  field  ; 
A  child  of  grace,  by  foreign  power  upheld; 
Born  where  hell's  sad  and  dreary  confines  lie, — 
Such  is  our  faith,  in  which  we  live  and  die ! 


DISCOURSE   XI Y. 

THE    BELIEVER'S    CHALLENGE. 

th  9    Tt  is  ChrL^t  that  died ;  vea,  rather  that  is  risen  again ; 

Teis  viuss,  indeed,  ffcsb  aud  livelv,  brethren  ;  this  is  Easter- 
Jie  and  the  resurrection  ^nbUee.  Oh,  that  we  con  d  one  and 
all  conclnde  this  festival  with  sach  a  shout  of  tnumph  !  Behold 
STm  of  all  the  consolation  brought  to  us  by  P-s..on-week 
G  od  Fridav.  and  Kaster,  expressed  in  these  cheerful  and  cheer^ 
^!  words.  Let  us  then  examine  their  meaning  more  closely,  and 
toect  our  attention  to  three  points.  We  ^^^^^^^'^^'''.^^ 
defying  challenge:  II.  Who  may  join  in  it:  Hl.lpon  what  .t 

is  founded. 

I    .^  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  V    Hold  !  who  cries  there  ? 
We  look  round,  and,  behold,  there  stands  before  ^^^^^^^ 
a  cheerful  countenance,  and  uplifted  head  ;  he  stand,  there 
;.m  as  a  battlement,  his  arm  resting  on  his  s  de  as  ;f  1.  wo  M 
.av  •  "Who  will  venture  now  to  try  it  with  me  r      His  eye 
;    rkle;  victory  lies  in  his  features  ;  great  conMe-e  in  h. 
ititudes;   and  serene   defiance   on  h.sW.    .^h^^.^He^ 
It  is   one   from   Judah— a   Clin.tiau.     llow  .    a 
daring?     Oh,  yes ;  these  people  are  lambs  -d  honst^o     Re 
the  Captain  of  their  salvation,  of  whom  it  is  said .     And 


2T6  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACIIER. 

sheep  before  li.-'r  shearers  is  dumb,  so  He  opeueth  not  Hfs 
moiuh."  And  in  another  place  :  "  The  Lion  hath  roared,  who 
will  not  be  afraid  V 

Yes,  indeed.  Christians  can  be  very  daring  and  very  proud  ; 
■and  they  dare  to  be  ;  for  is  not  that  pride,  when  they  cast  your 
honors  back  in  your  face,  and  say  :  "  0,  world,  thine  honor  I 
want  not?"  And  is  that  not  daring,  when  they  bind  your 
reproach  and  .shame  about  their  head,  like  a  princely  diadem, 
and  parade  therewith  as  with  a  crown?  Is  not  that  pride, 
when,  in  utter  indifference,  they  pass  by  your  places  of  amuse- 
ment, as  those  that  are  accustomed  to  something  better  than 
your  empty  pleasures  ?  And  is  not  that  daring,  when,  in  chains 
and  bands,  and  amid  storms  of  fiercest  persecution,  they  can 
laugh  and  sing,  to  the  chagrin  of  the  world  and  the  devil,  as 
Paul  and  Silas  did  in  their  prison  ?  Yes,  Christians  are  free 
and  courageous  people,  for  the  Lord  is  their  boast  and  their 
pride.  But  if  they  look  off  from  Him,  and  upon  themselves, 
aye,  then  their  glory  shrivels  together,  and  there  is  an  end  of 
their  daring  and  their  proud  carriage  ;  then  the  head  reclines 
down  as  a  bulrush  ;  the  eyes  are  cast  down,  and  the  man 
becometh  tame  as  a  lamb,  and  dares  not  open  his  mouth  through 
shame  and  confusion. 

But  where  have  we  left  our  man  of  defiant  tone  ?  There  he 
stands,  and  looks  about  with  sparkhng  eyes,  as  if  he  had  some- 
thing against  heaven  and  earth,  and  calls  till  every  ear  tingles  : 
"  A\1io  will  condemn  ?"  That  rings  bold.  Who  is  the  man^'that 
dares  thus  to  boast  ?  By  nature,  one  godless  without  parallel ; 
an  enemy  to  Jesus  Christ  and  His  saints  ;  a  persecutor  and 
murderer  of  the  churches,  who,  with  a  malicious  joy,  can  feed  on 
the  blood  of  the  innocent ;  a  proud,  self-righteous  disciple  of 
the  Pharisees,  and  a  fearful  instrument  of  Antichrist.  There 
you  have  him  as  he  was  ;  and  would  you  know  what  he  is  1 
Hear  it  from  his  own  mouth  :  "  I  am  the  chiefest  of  sinners  ;— 
oh,  wretched  man  that  I  am  I  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  ?     I  sec  a  law  in  my  members  warring  against 


THE   believer's    CHALLENGE.  277 

the  law  of  my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the  law 
of  sin.  The  good  that  I  would,  I  do  not  ;  but  the  evil  which 
I  would  not,  that  I  do.  And,  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above 
measure  through  the  abundance  of  the  revelations,  there  was 
given  to  me  a  thorn  hi  the  flesh,  the  messenger  of  Satan,  to  buf- 
fet me,  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above  measure."  Now  you 
know  him. 

What,  then,  is  the  man  about  ?  What  rash  act  would  he 
perform  ?  Oh,  incomparable  daring  I  Behold,  there  he  goes. 
— Whither,  then  ? — Yes,  ye  well  may  wonder  ! 

Behold,  there  looms  up  in  the  distance  a  high  mountain  to- 
wards heaven  ;  the  whole  mountain  as  a  flame  of  fire  ;  dark 
vapor-clouds  around  it  ;  thick  smoke  and  thunder  and  lightning 
upon  its  top  ;  and  the  tone  of  a  mighty  trumpet,  so  that  the 
rocks  do  quake  !  And  the  Lord  descends  upon  the  Mount 
Sinai ;  but  upon  its  peak  there  blazes  a  fire,  and  the  smoke 
thereof  mounts  up  like  the  smoke  of  a  furnace,  so  that  the  whole 
mountain  trembles: — and  now  hark  :  "  I  am  a  jealous  God,  and 
a  consuming  fire  !"  And  again  :  "  Thou  shalt,  and  thou  shalt 
not  1  Thou  shalt,  and  thou  shalt  not  !"  And  again  :  *'  Cursed 
is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  that  are  written  in 
the  book  of  the  Law  to  do  them."  "Whosoever  hath  sinned 
against  me,  him  will  I  blot  out  of  my  book."  "  Tribulation  and 
anguish  upon  every  soul  that  doeth  evil."  And  again:  "He 
that  ofifendeth  in  one  point  is  guilty  of  all."  And  again  :  "  A 
fire  is  kindled  in  mine  anger,  and  shall  burn  to  the  lowest  hell  • 
and  all  the  people  shall  say.  Amen."  And,  behold,  there  is  a 
great  eye  over  the  mountain,  like  a  torch  of  fire,  which  looks  and 
watches  that  no  tittle  of  this  eternal  law  may  fall  ;  and  a  dread- 
ful sword  glitters  like  lightning  beside  it,  against  the  transgres- 
sor ;  and  the  mountain  itself  is  so  holy  that  God  forbids  even 
to  touch  it :  "Take  heed  to  yourselves,  that  ye  go  not  up  into 
the  mount,  or  touch  the  border  of  it ;  whosoever  toucheth  the 
mount  shall  surely  be  put  to  death."  But  let  it  be  so — so  holy 
and  so  dreadful  as  it  will,  yon  man  advances  straight  towards 


278  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHER. 

it ;  he  touclics  it,  climbs  up,  makes  straight  into  the  darkness, 
looks  without  trembling  into  the  roaring  din,  and  cries,  as  if  he 
would  outcry  both  thunder  and  trumpet :  "  Who  is  he  that 
condemneth  ?'' — And  the  Eye  of  flame  oonsumes  him  not  ! — and 
Moses  accuses  him  not  I  All  is  dumb,  as  if  a  Deity  had  cried  I 
— What  mean  these  things  ? 

He  quits  Mount  Sinai,  and  goes — whither  ?  Oh,  pit-sump- 
tion  !  He  plants  himself  on  the  abyss  of  hell  ;  oh,  spectacle  of 
horror  !  a  burning  lake  ;  a  fire  which  never  is  quenched  ;  mon- 
sters who  never  die  ;  a  rattle  of  everlasting  chains  ;  bowlings  of 
the  damned  !  Whew  !  A  shudder  comes  over  the  frame — the 
hair  stands  on  end  ! — but  he  looks  in,  as  into  a  magic  lantern, 
or  into  a  painted  picture,  from  which  one  has  nothing  to  fear. 
Presumptuous  man !  Behold,  he  walks  amid  a  thousand 
devils  ;  their  prince  is  the  fallen  Morning-star  ;  the  Old  Serpent, 
Satan — a  deceiver,  and  cunning  without  equal ;  the  accuser  of 
men,  who  day  and  night  eyes  their  sins  in  order  to  bring  them 
before  G  od  ;  a  crafty  fellow,  who  sees  astonishingly  far  into  the 
human  he^rt ;  who  does  not  suffer  any  to  dissemble  to  him  ; 
whom  the  strictest  external  religion  cannot  deceive  ;  but  who, 
as  we  see  from  the  history  of  Job,  is  able  to  hunt  out  whether 
one  serves  God  for  naught,  or  for  the  sake  of  profit.  A  dread- 
ful enemy  !  who  should  not  be  afraid  of  him  ?  But  our  auda- 
cious friend  looks  him  courageously  in  the  face  ;  glances  around 
boldly  upon  the  fiendish  host^,  opens  his  mouth,  and  shouts  into 
the  abyss  below,  so  that  a  hundred  echoes  ring  along  the  gloomy 
vaults  :  "  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?" — And, — oh,  wonder  I 
— the  devils  gnash  their  teeth — and  are  dumb  1 

Now  he  steps  into  the  habitations  of  the  dead.  Oh,  see, 
whole  hosts  of  accusers,  of  witnesses,  against  him.  Paul,  Paul ! 
dost  thou  not  quake  into  nothing  at  such  a  sight  ?  Behold, 
here  is  one  whom  thou  hast  murdered  ;  another,  and  that  one 
there,  thou  castedst  into  chains  and  bonds  ;  this  one  thou  lock- 
cdst  up  in  tlic  niglit  in  a  dungeon  ;  and  that  one  thou  laidst 
upon  the  rack,  and  tookcst  delight  in  the  streaming  of  his  blood. 


279 

Behold  the  testimony  against  thee  I  they  bear  it  on  their  body  I 
Their  wounds,  their  mangled  limbs,  their  stripes,  their  scars,  call 
down  curse  and  death  upon  thy  head.  Now,  indeed,  thy  chi- 
valry will  have  an  end. — Oh,  not  at  all  I — "  Come  on,  whoever 
has  aught  against  me  I  Ye  bloody  corpses,  whom  I  brought  to 
death,  up  !  who  dares — who  accuses  me  ?  who  will  condemn  ? 
who  will  condemn  ?" — Dares  none  ? — None ;  the  godless  has 
won  the  suit  ! 

He  looks  about  to  see  who  will  take  heart  to  stand  forth 
against  him  ;  and  behold  a  sore  witness  comes  forward  ;  incor- 
ruptible, downright,  penetrating,  and  unsparing  ;  he  resides  in 
his  own  breast  and  knows  everything,  even  that  which  takes 
place  in  the  hidden  corners  of  thought  and  feeling  ; — "  Con- 
science "  by  name.  With  hundred  thousand  charges,  comes  he 
forward,  leaves  not  a  sound  hair  on  him — makes  him — God 
knows — ichat  a  wretch  !  There  is  no  disgrace  and  no  wicked- 
ness which  he  does  not  heap  upon  his  head  ;  and  he  swears  by 
the  living  God  that  he  has  testified  truly.  Now,  Paul,  reach 
your  back  here,  and  receive  the  brand  :  here  the  ceremonies 
end. — Nay,  by  no  means  :  "  Frighten  some  one  else,  thou  unseen 
beadle,"  he  cries  ;  "we  are  nothing  moved  at  thy  thundering  I 
Silence,  invisible  accuser  !  stay  at  home  with  thine  accusations, 
thou  scrupulous  witness  I  thou  speakest  the  truth,  I  know  ;  and 
yet,  AVho  is  he  that  condemneth  ?" 

And  what  happens  next  ?  Ha  !  what  a  sight  I  The  curtain 
rolls  up,  the  heavens  flee  ;  the  earth  departs  ;  the  mountains 
quake  ;  the  hills  melt ;  and  the  world,  with  all  that  is  therein, 
is  one  flame  ;  and,  behold,  there  stands  a  throne  prepared  and 
decked  with  all  the  insignia  of  terror  ;  and  one  sits  thereupon 
whose  eyes  are  flames  of  fire,  whose  feet  are  brass,  and  right- 
eousness His  girdle  and  crown.  We  know  Him,  and  yet  we 
know  Him  not ;  for  He  is  no  longer  the  hunted  one,  who  has 
not  where  to  lay  His  head  ;  He  is  no  longer  the  lamb  that  is 
dumb  before  its  shearers.  He  bears  the  sceptre  of  universal  domi- 
nion ;  the  key  of  the  Almighty,  to  open  and  shut  heaven  and 


-^*^  TEED.    AVM.    KEUMMACHEE. 


bell  at  His  pleasure  ;  and  His  wrath  is  horrible— a  fiery  furnace 
to  consume  the  adversaries  like  stra^y.  Whole  hosts,  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  are  plunged  into  the  abyss  of  hell,  are  deliv- 
ered over  to  the  devils  forever-forever-and  there  is  no  pity 
and  no  mercy  ! 

There  are  among  them  the  honorable,  whose  names  shine 
among  the  benefactors  of  the  nations-"  Away  with  you,  I  know 
you  not !"    There  are  the  lordly  ones  there,  who  have  won 
battles,  taken  cities,  blessed  kingdoms  :  "Away  with  the  nobles  I 
I  never  knew  them!"    There  are  the  sanctimonious,  against 
whom  no  human  being  dares  testify  ;  who  endowed  churches 
and  schools;   spent  days   in   praying  and   singing;    on  whom 
scarcely  a  speck  can  be  found,  so  careful  and  cautious  were 
they:  "Away  with  these  sanctimonious  ones!  lam  displeased 
with  their  righteousness  ;  away  !  into  eternal  fire  prepared  for 
the  devil  and  his  angels  1"     Oh,  dreadful,  horrible  !  the  hard 
rocks  might  well  crumble  into  dust  and  ashes  in  dismay.   Behold 
how  the  whole  atmosphere  is  fall  of  nothing  but  howling  and 
gnashing  of  teeth  ;  and  the  arrows  of  wrath  fly  by  thousands 
enough  to  obscure  the  light  of  heaven.     And  there  a  man  rushes 
ho  dly  and  rapidly  through  all  the  din  ;  steps  up  to  the  bar  of 
judgment,  lifts  his  head  and  cries  so  that  the  whole  iud<^ment- 
seat  echoes  therewith:  "Who-whowill  condemn V"    Who  is 
the  presumptuous  one?    Who  commits  this  unexampled  piece 
of  daring?    Ha  !  we  know  him  already;  he  has  already  chal- 
enged  everything,  and  now  proceeds  to  the  utmost  extreme  • 
he  places  himself  in  the  light  of  those  eyes  which  search  heart 
and  reins,  to  see  whether  they  might  find  aught  in  him,  that 
they  may  try  to  find  something  against  him.    "Up  !  who  dares  ? 
Who  will  condemn?"  he  cries,  and  there  is  none  to  condemn! 
Uhe  devils  curse,  the  damned  shriek  over  the  injustice ;  out  of 
he  1  voices  cry  :  "He  was  more  godless  than  we."-What  boots 
It .     This  godless  one  goes  through  free,  and  there  is  no  one  to 
condemn  I 


Tine  believer's  challenge.  281 

11.  All  1  what  a  glorious  condition,  to  know  ourselves  irre- 
proachable and  justified  before  God  and  all  creatures  ;  and,  in 
the  fiiCQ  of  heaven  and  earth,  of  God  and  man,  of  angels  and 
devils,  to  be  permitted  joyfully  to  exclaim:  "Who  will  con- 
demn ?"  and  find  heaven  and  earth  compelled  to  be  silent ! 

But  who  may  do  it  ?  Thou,  perhaps  ? — and  thou  ?  Indeed, 
try  it  once,  and  cry,  "Who  will  condemn?"  Behold,  instead  of 
one,  a  thousand  sentences  of  condemnation  will  rattle  down  upon 
thy  head,  and  curses  will  overwhelm  thee,  as  with  a  terrific 
shower.  Thou  art  known,  friend ;  thy  weak  points  are  observed ; 
thou  dwellest  among  sleeping  lions  ;  woe  to  thee,  if  they  awake  ;• 
they  will  devour  and  tear  thee  in  pieces  !  These  lions  are,  thy 
conscience — the  Law — and  the  accuser  in  hell — the  inmates  of 
thine  house — and  others,  too  many  to  name.  Only  wait  until 
the  hearing  of  the  witnesses,  and  they  will  all  condemn  thee. 
Ha  !  the  sins  of  thy  youth  alone  would  destroy  thee,  and  though 
no  one  should  condemn  thee — we,  who  only  know  thee  a  little, 
are  able  to  hurl  thee  down  headlong,  and  by  our  testimony 
against  thee  to  draw  down  the  sentence  of  death  upon  thy  head. 
Thou,  therefore,  be  quiet,  and  rejoice  that  hell  has  not  yet  swal- 
lowed thee  up ! 

Well,  then,  who  dare  say,  with  Paul :  "Who  is  he  that  con- 
demneth  ?"  Answer.  None,  but  he  who  can  say  with  Paul : 
"  Christ  is  here.^^  *  This  gives  the  fitness.  That  is  easily  seen — 
is  it  not  ?  But  hold  ;  rejoice  not  too  soon.  All  depends  upon 
how  the  little  word  "here,"  is  to  be  taken.  You  think,  for 
example,  that  if  one  can  only  say,  "  Christ  is  here " — in  the 
head — that  is  enough.  Indeed,  beloved  brethren  1  then  all  the 
devils  might  cry  :  "  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?"  For,  in  this 
sense,  they  too  can  say  :  "  Christ  is  here."  I  tell  you,  that  that 
Christ  who  dwells  nowhere  else,  you  may  take  to  hell  with 
you.  "  What !  beautiful  views  and  glimpses,  all  this  clear  light 
and    knowledge   with   us   to   hell  ?"     Yes,    beloved    brethren  ; 

*  Instead  of  the  words,  "  It  is  Christ  who  died,"  Luther  has,  "  Christ  is  here  who  died," 
though  without  sufficient  authority  in  the  original. 


282  FRED.    VTM.    KRTJMMACHEE. 

innumerable  is  the  crowd,  who,  with  mere  head-knowledge  wan- 
der to  hell.  ''But  how  is  it,  then,  if  Christ  be  kereT' — In  the 
mouth,  do  you  mean  ?  Why,  if  that  were  sufficient,  the  case 
would  not  be  so  hard  ;  we  preachers  should  then  have  a  peculiar 
advantage,  and  might  dispense  with  repentance,  regeneration, 
and  all  such  bitter  and  hateful  things  ;  but  the  Christ  that  is 
here,  and  nowhere  else,  will  not  intercede  for  us  in  our  time  of 
need. 

When  Paul  says,  "  Christ  is  Aere,"  he  lays  his  hand  upon  his 
heart.  Can  you  do  that,  too?  Now,  then,  cheer  up  I  "Who 
is  he  that  condemneth  ?"  Just  prove  it — hand  on  the  heart  ! 
Now  I  ask  you  before  God,  what  is  beneath  it  ?  Christ  or 
Belial,  and  the  world  ?  Here  the  two  parties  divide.  They 
who  cannot  say,  "  I  live  ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me," 
they  step  to  the  left — they  are  cursed.  The  others  shout  with 
joy,  "  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?"  They  may  do  it,  for  Christ 
is  here  ! 

But  now,  would  you  gladly  know  whether  Christ  is  here  or 
not  ?  The  answer  is  found  in  the  words  ;  a  good  tree  brings 
forth  its  fruit  in  its  season.  Hear  these  words  :  each  fruit  in  its 
season.  One  must  not  expect  to  find  the  fruits  of  the  new  man 
all  together,  and  at  once,  at  each  moment ;  by  so  doing  we 
unnecessarily  destroy  our  peace.  There  are  Christians  who 
think,  any  hour  that  they  set  themselves  down  to  seek  for  the 
signs  of  a  state  of  grace  in  themselves,  they  must  find  the  same 
altogether,  piece  for  piece,  plainly  stamped  from  number  one  on. 
And  because  this  is  very  seldom  the  case,  they  never  attain  to 
inw^ard  peace:  and  this  is  a  misunderstanding.  "Every  fruit  m 
its  season ;"  this  is  the  rule  here,  according  to  which  you  must 
search. 

For  example,  when  you  stumble,  then  is  the  season  for  the 
fruit  of  repentance  ;  see,  then,  w^hether  it  hangs  on  the  tree. 
When  the  conscience  rages,  then  is  the  season  when  the  fruit  of 
longing  after  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice  must  show  itself ;  observe 
whether  it  appears.     When  a  child  of  God  suffers  need,  then 


THE   believer's    CHALLENGE.  28^ 

must  the  sweet  grapes  of  love  redden  to  ripeness.  When  you 
are  cast  among  the  children  of  this  world,  then  a  certain  sense 
of  discomfort,  a  not-at-horae  feeling,  a  certain  home-sickness,  is 
the  fruit  which  ought  to  be  found  ;  according  to  the  saying  : 
"  In  the  world  ye  shjiU  have  tribulation,"  etc. 

He,  then,  who  observes  that  the  tree  of  his  inner  man  sends 
forth  such  heavenly  fruits,  each  in  its  season,  let  him  not  be 
uneasy  that  they  are  not  all  at  all  times  there  ;  but  rejoice, 
and  say,  to  the  honor  of  Christ:  "Christ  is  here."  It  is  true 
that  Christ  may  often  retire  so  far  into  the  depths  of  the  soul, 
that  scarcely  a  trace  of  His  existence  there  can  be  perceived  ; 
but  if  He  is  there  once,  He  is  there  forever.  If  a  regenerate 
person  should  again  become  a  natural  man,  another  regene- 
ration by  God's  Almighty  power  would  be  necessary  ;  but  to 
think  such  a  thing  possible  would  be  nonsense.  But  no  Chris- 
tian has  ever  so  fallen  away  as  that  a  time  never  comes,  when 
the  leafless  tree  again  puts  forth  its  fruit,  and  when  one  could 
say  :  "  Christ  is  here."  A  storm  often  restores  an  apparently 
dead  tree  to  all  the  lovely  bloom  of  spring.  And  even  should 
it  last  until  death  in  this  state  of  decay  and  saplessness,  when 
this  general  alarm  is  sounded,  the  old  soldiers  will  certainly 
place  themselves  in  rank  and  order ;  and,  like  young  heroes, 
march  joyfully  to  Jerusalem  under  the  good  old  banner  of  the 
Lamb. 

III.  He,  then,  who  can  say,  "  Christ  is  here,"  may  also  say, 
'*  Who  will  condemn  ?" 

But  upon  what  ground  ?  This  we  learn  from  Paul.  On  what 
does  he  stand,  when  he  gives  out  his  bold  challenge,  "Who  is 
he  that  condemneth  ?"  On  works  ?  Deeds  ?  Noble  feelings,  and 
the  like  ?  God  forbid  !  The  ground  on  which  his  feet  rest,  is, 
first,  a  cross  ;  and  then  the  broken  ruins  of  the  grave.  He 
cries,  "  Christ  is  here  who  died  ;  yea,  rather,  that  is  risen  again." 
Again,  with  his  right  hand  he  points  to  a  throne  above,  and 
a  priestly  sanctuary,  and  says,  "  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ? 


284  FEED.    VrSL    KRUMMACKEE. 

Christ  is  here  that  died  ;  yea,  rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who 
is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also  maketh  intercession 
for  us."  There,  you  have  the  whole  foundation  upon  which  our 
guiltlessness  and  undamuableness  rest ;  and  truly  the  foundation 
is  adamantine  I 

We  found  our  confidence,  therefore,  first  of  all,  on  the  bloody 
mount  and  the  timbers  of  the  cross.  As  truly  as  my  Lord  died 
in  this  place,  so  truly  am  I  on  this  spot  freed  from  condemna- 
tion !  On  this  spot,  all  the  accusations  of  men  and  of  devils 
appear  to  me  entirely  absurd  ; — all  the  reproaches  of  conscience 
falsely  applied  ; — all  the  menaces  of  the  law,  as  mere  scare-crows  ; 
— all  curses,  as  false  shots.  Ask  me,  and  from  this  place  of  offer- 
ing will  I  send  you  word  :  "  Is  there  nothing  more  wanting  ?" 
No,  nothing  more  at  all.  "  Art  thou  afraid  of  no  sin  ?"  No, 
of  none.  "Art  thou  not  terrified  when  thy  heart  condemns 
thee  ?"  God  is  for  me,  and  He  is  greater  than  my  heart.  "  If 
thou  wert  without  sin,  wouldst  not  thou  be  more  assured  than 
thou  art  now  ?"  Not  in  the  least  ;  my  assurance  grows  not 
with  my  sanctification  ;  it  rests  on  the  offering  of  Christ.  "But 
if  thou  wert  altogether  holy,  wouldst  thou  have  yet  less  to  fear 
than  now  ?"  I  am  entirely  holy  ;  *  and  aught  less  than  nothing 
is  not  conceivable  ;  and  I  fear  nothing. 

Have  you  any  other  questions  to  propose  ?  Ask  on  ;  we 
are  but  too  glad  to  be  reminded  of  these  things  ;  and  for  the 
answer  we  are  at  no  loss.  "Yet  God  is  angry  at  sin;  and 
should  He  not  also  be  angry  at  thine  ?"  His  wrath  has  burned  ; 
this  cross  is  witness.  Who  hung  thereon  ?  I,  in  my  Head,  and 
drank  my  curse  below.  "  But  may  not  His  wrath  be  kindled 
against  thee  anew  ?"  I  have  experienced  His  wrath,  in  that 
measure  in  which  I  shall  deserve  it,  when  the  last  sin  shall  have 
been  committed  ;  consequently  the  whole  sum  with  which  my 
life  concludes,  and  I  give  up  the  ghost.  No  thought  of  wrath 
may  move  against  me  more,  or  God  denies  himself,  and  becomes 

*  His  idea  is,  that  God  sees  him  in  Cdrist  as  holy.— Tranb. 


THE   BELTEVIIr's    CHALLENGE.  285 

unjust,  inasmuch  as  He  gives  me  more  than  He  has  threatened, 
and  I  have  deserved.  "  Can,  therefore,  no  punishment  overtake 
thee  ?"  No  punishment  whatsoever — no  judgment  whatever — no 
condemnation  wliatsoevcr  ;  in  short,  nothing  hostile,  for  all  has 
been  paid  off,  once  for  all,  upon  the  cross.  And  if  ever  I  should 
go  so  far — which  may  God  forbid  I — that  I,  who  have  tasted 
of  the  good  word  of  God  and  the  powers  of  the  world  to 
come,  should  fall  away,  and  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and 
put  Him  to  an  open  shame,  and  should  become  a  field  bringing 
forth  thorns  and  briers,  and  nigh  unto  cursing  ;  still,  notwith- 
standing all  this,  no  fire  could  touch  me,  except  such  a  one  as 
the  hand  of  Love  kindles  upon  me,  in  order  to  renew  me  to 
repentance.  Hear  I  Hear  I  This  I  maintain,  that  God  can 
never  more  be  displeased  with  me  without  being  at  strife  with 
himself,  for  the  very  extremity  of  His  displeasure  was  poured 
out  upon  our  bleeding  Surety. 

So  are  we  delivered  forever  from  all  judgment,  and  from  all 
examinations,  suits,  and  inquisitions  :  and,  hid  behind  our  great 
Sacrifice  we  cry  :  "  Who  is  he  that  coudemneth  ?"  and  enter 
at  last — however  holy  or  wicked  we  may  have  been — imme- 
diately from  our  death-bed — without  stay,  circumstances,  or  cere- 
monies, into  heaven  to  take  our  place  }  and  no  door-keeper  dare 
presume  to  subject  us  to  an  examination  ;  we  are  marked  on  the 
forehead  and  the  hand  with  a  cross.  That  is  our  passport  and 
credential,  before  which  all  the  police  of  heaven  must  bow,  and 
that  of  hell  no  less. 

Bat  let  us  not  be  mistaken,  my  brethren  ;  our  position  upon 
Golgotha  would  still  be  insecure,  and  we  only  with  muffled  tones 
give  forth  our  challenge,  "Who  is  he  that  condemueth  ?"  if  we 
did  not  perceive  by  the  side  of  the  cross,  that  banner  of  victory 
which  flutters  over  the  ope.n  tomb  of  our  Head  ;  and  if  we  could 
not,  like  Paul,  after  his  "  Christ  is  here,  who  died,"  add  with 
exulting  joy,  "  yea,  rather,  who  is  riseii  again."  If  thou  art  in 
distress,  and  shouldst  be  distrained,  and  findest*  a  friend  to  go 
security  for  thee,  thou  wouldst  rejoice  ;  but  with  trembling  still, 


286  FEED.    WM.    KRUMMACHER. 

until  thou  knowest  that  thy  creditor  has  accepted  the  security. 
In  Hke  manner,  all  came  to  this,  that  the  sacrifice  of  our  repre- 
sentative should  be  acknowledgea,  received,  and  approved  by 
God  as  valid  and  sufficient.  But  behold  how,  as  it  were  with 
drums  and  trumpets,  God  has  proclaimed  from  heaven  His  con- 
sent and  assent,  and  stamped  upon  the  receipt  which  was  written 
for  us,  to  acknowledge  the  payment  of  Jesus,  the  impress  of  a 
signet  which  can  never  be  blotted  out — namely,  in  the  Resur- 
rection, of  our  security.  If,  then,  our  hope  in  the  sacrifice  of 
Christ  be  vain  and  perverted,  no  one  else — I  say  it  with  reve- 
rence and  respect — is  responsible,  but  God  himself,  who  is  the 
author  of  this  hope. 

If  we  regard  the  satisfaction  as  insufficient  for  our  salvation, 
then  God  must  have  left  our  Surety  in  the  grave,  or  taken  Him 
away  secretly,  or  have  intimated  the  same  in  some  other  way  ; 
but  could  never  have  made  an  Easter-day  for  us,  nor  presented 
before  our  eyes  the  Surety  crowned  with  such  glory  ;  for  from 
all  this  pomp  and  splendor  no  other  conclusion  can  be  drawn 
than  this,  that  the  Almighty  is  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  secu- 
rity given.  Were  He,  then,  about  to  condemn  us,  we  should 
hold  up  to  Ilim  the  stones  of  the  rent  rocky  tomb,  and  say  : 
"  Lord,  these  stones  testify  that  Thou  thyself  hast  encouraged  us 
to  cast  ourselves  altogether  upon  Jesus.  Lord  !  these  stones 
are  the  seal  which  Thou  hast  affixed  to  the  documents  of  our 
atonement.  Lord,  these  stones  would  cry  out  because  of  injus- 
tice, if  Thou  shouldst  disappoint  the  hopes  which  Thou  thyself 
hast  created  in  us,  of  thine  own  accord  ;"  and  truly,  even  if  God 
hesitated,  yet  when  He  looks  upon  these  rocky  fragments — by 
which  He  has  solemnly  promised  us  forgiveness  in  the  wounds  of 
Jesus — necessity  would  be  laid  upon  Him  to  pronounce  us  right- 
eous, in  order  to  remain  holy,  true,  and  faithful — that  is^  to 
remain  God.  Behold,  such  is  the  security  of  our  affairs.  ''Who 
is  he  that  condemncth  ?" 

Hear  what  Paul  says  :  "  If  Christ  be  not  risen,  ye  are  yet  in 
your  sins  :"  but  now,  he  means  to  say,  ye  are  no  longer  in  your 


287 

sins.  "  How  !  does  Paul  mean  to  say,  no  more  under  the  curse 
and  wrath  ?"'  No  I  he  means  also,  no  longer  in  your  sins/  Oh, 
mystery  of  godliness  !  The  risen  One  are  wc.  "  Who  ?  We  ?" 
Yes,  yes,  we  poor  sinners  I  Not  a  ray  of  light  that  is  seen  in 
Him,  not  a  virtue  which  shines  around  Him,  that  is  not  ours. 
Behold,  how  He  stands  there  ;  a  youthful  chamj^ion  upon  His 
open  tomb — such  we  stand  before  God.  Not  such  we  shall 
stand  ;  but  such  we  stand.  He  has  suffered — we  also !  He 
■\vas  taken  away  from  judgment — we  with  Him !  Nothing 
damnable  rests  longer  upon  Him — nothing  damnable  upon  us 
also.  Here  is  a  picture  of  purity  and  beauty — we  no  less !  He 
is  clothed  with  nothing  but  obedience  and  light ;  the  same  light, 
the  same  obedience  adorns  us,  also.  He  dares  venture,  clothed 
in  pure  linen,  into  the  light  of  the  Eternal  fire-eyes,  without  any 
fear  lest  the  least  grain  of  dust  should  be  found  upon  Him — 
ojue  venture,  too  !  He  is  the  righteousness  of  God  himself ;  we  are, 
also,  for  His  righteousness  is  given  to  us.  "  But  our  old  Adam  ? 
What  of  him  ?"  He  lies  before  God  in  the  grave  of  an  everlast- 
ing oblivion.  Oh,  ecstasy  of  joy  I  AVe  are  not  merely  par- 
doned delinquents  ;  we  are  beloved  and  honored  saints  of  God  ; 
and  as  from  the  cross  we  should  cry,  "Who  is  he  that  con- 
demneth  ?"  so  from  the  theatre  of  our.  Redeemer's  triumph,  we 
cry  :  "  Which  of  you  convinceth  me  of  sin  ?" 

And  what  we  cry  to-day,  the  same  will  we  cry  to-morrow, 
and  the  day  after,  and  on  to  the  end.  Everything  possible  sup- 
posed— stumbling  and  defects,  falling  away  and  straying,  new 
sins,  and  new  shame — yet,  out  of  every  fall,  out  of  every  over- 
throw, we  will  venture  to  cry  :  **  Who  is  he  that  condemneth?" 
Our  Surety  is  not  gone  far  over  land  ;  we  see  Him  every 
moment  ;  and  where  ?  in  what  attitude  ?  We  see  Him,  either 
as  King  upon  the  throne  ;  or  near  the  throne,  as  Advocate  and 
Intercessor  ;  and  joyfully  shout :  '*  Christ  is  here,  who  not  only 
died  and  rose  again,  but  who  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  God, 
and  maketh  intercession  for  us." 

If  I  see  Him  sitting  upon  the  throne,  what,  then,  have  I  to 


288  FRED.    WM.    KEUMMACHEE. 

fear  from  a  Judge  who  is  interested  to  the  utmost  in  my  salva- 
tion, and  who  allowed  himself  to  be  thrown  overboard,  rather 
than  let  me  perish  in  the  storm  ?  My  Friend  and  Brother  will 
not  condemn  me.  I  set  myself  boldly  beside  Him  upon  his  rest- 
ing-place, and  cling  to  Ilim,  for  we  know  each  other  ;  He  is  my 
Shepherd,  and  I  His  sheep.  If  in  spirit  I  behold  the  Father 
sitting  upon  the  throne,  my  Jesus  stands  close  by.  Why  then 
should  I  tremble,  when  He,  who,  as  God,  is  God's  eternal  Son, 
is  my  Advocate  ?  If  I  sin,  behold,  even  before  I  repent,  interces- 
sion is  made  tor  me.  If  I  fall,  lo  !  ere  yet  I  have  risen,  Jesus 
stands  for  me  before  God  ;  shows  His  wounds,  which  also  flowed 
for  me,  and  says  : ;  *'  If  a  rod  must  be  broken,  break  it  upon  me, 
this  poor  sheep  cannot  perish  ;  this  I  have  promised  him." 
Behold,  thus  the  Surety  intercedes  for  His  sinners  before  the 
Father — that  is,  He  puts  himself  in  their  place  ;  in  all  cases 
steps  in  for  them  ;  and  inasmuch  as  the  Intercessor  is  God  him- 
self, it  is  plain  of  itself,  that  in  the  moment  in  which  the  advo- 
cacy and  intercession  takes  place,  it  is  accepted. 

Behold,  my  brethren,  such  is  the  nature  of  our  security.  Up  I 
then,  and  let  us  enjoy  the  delights  of  Easter  ;  and  in  the  presence 
of  our  enemies  be  glad,  and  rejoice  in  our  victory. 

Come,  then,  all  ye  who  have  anything  against  us  !  Come  on, 
ye  devils  out  of  hell !  Ye  angels — ye  mighty  heroes,  with  your 
bright,  pure,  holy  eyes  !  Moses,  thou  earnest  watchman,  hither 
from  thy  cloudy  mount  !  Come,  ye  human  accusers,  ye  living 
and  ye  dead  I  Thou  internal  witness,  take  thy  seat  upon  thy 
throne  I  We  will  make  your  work  easy,  ye  hostile  spirits  !  Be- 
fore ye  .accuse,  we  will  confess  :  yes  I  we  are  altogether  vile  and 
corrupt — not  a  fibre  in  us  that  is  good — not  a  breath  without 
sin  ;  the  sand  of  the  sea  tells  our  sins  and  the  number  of  them  ; 
Lebanon,  that  rises  up  to  heaven,  their  height  and  weight  ;  the 
scarlet,  their  color  !  Yes,  we  confess  it,  from  hour  to  hour,  the 
mountain  of  our  guilt  grows  higher  ;  its  greatness  is  gigantic  ! 
and  we  have,  not  once,  but  a  thousand  times,  deserved  curse  and 
damnation.     But.  nevertheless,  what  have  ye  to  do  with  us  ? 


THE   believer's    CHALLENGE.  289 

behold  under  our  feet  tins  tree,  and  these  stones  ;  and,  over  our 
bead,  this  royal  throne  and  this  priestly  seat  I  Come  on,  then  I 
"  Who  is  he  that  coudcmneth  ?"  Ha  I  the  curse  sticks  in  your 
throat  I  Away,  ye  hateful  accusers  !  Be  dumb  I  be  dumb  ! 
Hark  I  a  voice  of  thunder  is  heard  from  heaven  :  "Touch  not 
mine  anointed  :  Speak  comfortably  to  Jerusalem  I"  Hear  ye 
it  ?  The  tongue  must  dry  up  that  would  judge  us.  "  Who  is 
he  that  condemneth  ?" 

"  Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?"  That  is  our  watchword  : 
in  want  and  in  death  ;  in  the  time  of  falling  and  of  rising. 
"  W^ho  is  he  that  condemneth  ?"  "  For  if  when  we  were  en- 
emies we  were  reconciled  to  God  by  the  death  of  his  Son,  much 
more,  being  reconciled,  we  shall  be  saved  by  his  life."  "And 
not  only  so,  but  we  also  joy  in  God  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  by  whom  we  have  received  the  atonement."    Amen. 


13 


FRED.  AUG.  GOT.   THOLUCK,  D.D. 


291 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

De.  Feederio  Augustus  Gotteeu  Tholuck,  was  born  at  Breslaii, 
the  capital  of  Silesia,  on  the  30th  of  March,  1799;  so  that  he  is  now 
about  sixty  years  of  age.  He  is  of  poor  and  humble  parentage,  and 
labored,  while  a  boy,  as  jeweler,  until  some  friends  helped  him  to 
enter  upon  a  course  of  study.  He  was  naturally  inclined  to  panthe- 
ism, from  which  he  was  saved,  in  great  part,  by  the  influence  of  the 
learned  ISTeander.  When  awakened  to  the  need  of  Christ,  in  his 
twentieth  year,  and  truly  converted,  he  determined  to  give  himself 
to  the  profession  of  theology.  At  the  age  of  twenty  he  become  Pro- 
fessor at  Berlin,  and  at  twenty-seven  (1826)  he  was  appointed  Pro- 
fessor of  Theology  at  Halle,  where  he  has  remained  ever  since. 
Through  his  influence,  mainly,  this  ancient  seat  of  learning  was  re- 
covered from  rationalistic  sentiments,  which  almost  exclusively 
prevailed  there  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago. 

Professor  Tholuck  sustains  a  reputation  as  Lecturer  in  Theology, 
second  to  that  of  no  one  in  Germany ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  is  even 
now  a  laborious  student,  writes  extensively  for  religious  periodical 
publications,  composes  elaborate  works,  and  preaches  at  least  once 
in  two  weeks,  to  the  members  of  the  University.  It  is  only  by 
habits  of  the  most  rigid  regularity  and  caution  that  he  keeps  soul 
and  body  together. 

The  published  writings  cf  Professor  Tholuck  are  very  numerous  ; 
among  which  are  several  volumes  of  Sermons,  and  Commentaries  on 
diff'erent  parts  of  the  Bible.  The  chief  peculiarities  of  his  discourses 
are,  a  remarkable  elevation  and  richness  of  evangelical  sentiment ; 
no  display  of  abstruse  thought  or  dry  discussion ;  liveliness  and  ex- 
uberance of  fancy ;  vigor,  sprightliness,  and  boldness  of  expression 
and  a  peculiar  fervor,  and  tenderness,  and  childlike  simplicity,  which 
warm  and  attract  every  pious  heart. 

293 


FEEDERIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK.  294 

Professor  Tholuck  has  had  no  children,  and  is  exceedingly  attached 
to  the  students ;  perhaps  the  more  warmly  from  the  fact  alluded  to. 
He  not  only  freely  invites  them  to  his  house  and  table,  but  almost 
invariably  has  some  of  them  at  his  side  in  his  morning  and  evening 
walks  for  recreation,  whom  he  entertains  by  his  wit,  wins  by  his 
aflections,  rouses  to  thought  by  odd  and  startling  questions,  and  edi- 
fies by  his  piety. 

In  personal  appearance,  Professor  Tholuck  is  modest,  unprepossess- 
ing, and  quite  original;  He  is  of  delicate,  stooping  frame,  medium 
size,  meagre  and  emaciated,  extremely  nervous  and  excitable,  and  at 
times  almost  blind  by  excessive  study.  A  recent  writer  from  Ger- 
many says  of  him :  "  Although  it  may  be  true,  as  seme  maintain 
who  heard  him  twenty  years  ago,  that  his  eloquence  has  lost  a  little 
of  its  brilliancy  and  edge,  it  must  have  gained  in  depth  and  subdued 
pathos,  more  than  an  equivalent  for  what  it  has  lost.  Nay,  one 
should  not  speak  of  loss ;  it  is  a  result  of  growth — the  brilliant 
flower  is  not  lost ;  it  ripens  into  solid,  luscious  fruit.  It  is  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  same  process  of  development  by  which  the  impetuous 
'Son  of  thunder'  matured  into  the  white-haired  'Apostle  of  love." 

The  Sermons  which  follow  will  convey  some  idea  of  the  origi- 
nality and  freshness  of  his  thoughts,  and  the  richness  of  his 
eloquence. 


DISCOURSE    XY. 

THE    BETRAYAL    OF    JESUS. 

Beloved  friends  :  We  have  witli  our  Saviour  fought  through 
the  fight  in  Gethsemane,  and  our  eyes  have  seen  hum  marching 
in  the  van  victorious.  As  the  uprisiug  sun,  before  which  a 
morning  tempest  had  suddenly  encamped,  after  its  thunder  was 
spent,  mounts  majestically  in  the  heavens — unclouded  and  spot- 
less— so  walked  he  forth  from  the  inclosures  of  the  garden. 
With  like  dignity  we  see  him  standing  again  in  presence  of  his 
betrayer  and  his  judges.  And  yet  in  this  day's  discourse  we  in- 
tend not  to  leave  the  spot  where  the  bloody  sweat  had  fallen, 
and  where,  through  the  lonely  night,  there  thrice  rang  out,  in 
earnest  tones,  those  memorable  words,  "  Father,  not  my  will  but 
thine  be  done."  Our  purpose  now  is  to  direct  attention  to  the 
last  address  made  by  our  Saviour  to  the  traitor.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  Luke,  xxii.  41,  48. 

"  And  while  he  yet  spake,  behold  a  multitude,  and  he  that  was  called  Judas,  one  of  the 
twelve,  went  before  them  and  drew  near  to  Jesus  to  kiss  him.  But  Jesus  said  unto  him, 
Judas,  betrayest  thou  the  Son  of  man  with  a  kiss  ?" 

Let  US  first  glance  at  the  act  of  the  traitor — at  the  cunning, 
the  inward  compunction,  and  the  deep  turpitude  evinced  therein  ; 
and  then  at  the  words  of  our  Lord — at  the  serenity,  the  love, 
the  majesty  which  they  manifest. 

295 


296  FKEDERIC   A.    G.   THOLUCK. 

A  long  struggle,  perhaps  of  many  weeks,  yea,  it  may  be,  of 
months,  came  to  its  decisiye  close  at  that  moment,  when  Jesus 
extended  to  Judas  the  sop,  and  to  the  disciple  who  lay  on  his 
bosom,  replied,  "  He  it  is  to  whom  I  shall  give  the  sop,  when  I 
have  dipped  it."  "  And  after  the  sop,"  it  is  said,  "  Satan  en- 
tered into  him."  So  long  as  he  kept  np  the  conflict  with  his 
black  thoughts,  he  was  still  in  the  power  of  God — now  ad- 
vancing— now  retreating.  But  from  the  moment  the  resolve 
ripened,  he  fell  wholly  under  Satan's  control,  and  at  every  step 
trod  the  sloping  path  down  towards  the  abyss.  He  goes  out  into 
the  night — and  what  a  contrast  ! — there  in  the  lighted  chamber 
they  are  celebrating  the  last  feast  of  love  ;  and  he — he  goes  out 
into  the  night — and  unto  the  children  of  night.  Already  had 
the  preliminary  arrangements  been  made,  and  there  only  re- 
mained the  execution. 

Now  mark,  in  the  first  place,  the  cunning  of  the  act.  As  a 
general  rule,  it  is  admitted,  that  "  the  children  of  this  world  are 
wiser  in  their  generation  than  the  children  of  light."  The  ser- 
pent in  Paradise  was  also  crafty.  Alas  !  that  when  once  the 
heart  has  been  enslaved  to  sin,  the  noble  gift  of  reason,  which 
God  has  given  man,  should  also  become  degraded  to  the  same 
vile  service  ;  and  that,  instead  of  that  wisdom,  which  it  is  ever 
wont  to  produce  while  the  heart  remains  true  to  God,  it  should 
generate  only  policy — a  policy  which  works  in  the  service  of  hell. 
Oh,  be  not  deceived,  ye  who  imagine,  that  by  reason  and  science 
ye  will  be  able  to  secure  yourselves  from  sin.  '•  Where  your 
treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also,"  said  the  Saviour  ;  and 
where  your  heart,  the  inmost  tendency  of  your  will  is,  there  will 
your  reason  be.  And  know  ye  unto  what  ends  it  will  serve  ? 
Before  the  commission  of  your  deed,  it  will  devise  the  necessary 
means  for  its  accomplishment  j  divring  its  commission,  it  will 
spread  a  veil  over  its  enormity  ;  after  its  commission,  when  con- 
science begins  to  storm,  its  business  will  be  to  lull  it  to  silence 
by  crafty  apologies  and  lying  justifications.  These  are  the  cuds 
it  will  serve.     So  was  it  with  Judas.     Because  his  heart  was 


THE   BETRAYAL   OF   JESUS.  297 

not  right  with  God,  therefore  was  his  reason  bUad  to  the  Tiature 
of  the  act  he  was  on  the  point  of-  perpetrating. 

It  was  not,  however,  blind  to  the  means  necessary  for  its  exe- 
cution. He  decides  to  act  under  cover  of  night.  This  was 
sagacious  both  for  the  sake  of  his  enterprise,  and  for  the  sake  of 
his  conscience.  It  was  sagacious  for  his  enterprise  ;  for  had  it 
been  undertaken  by  day,  how  many  swords,  besides  that  of  Peter, 
would  have  leaped  from  their  scabbards  in  Christ's  defence  ? 
The  Saviour  had  servants  who  would  not  have  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment to  risk  their  lives  in  his  behalf.  But  the  prudent  traitor 
chose  for  his  work  the  time  "  when  men  slept."  And  the  time 
when  men  sleep,  is  the  chosen  time  for  the  enemy  to  sow  tares. 
This  was  also  politic  in  regard  of  his  conscience.  "  If  I  can  only 
betray  him  in  his  sleep,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  then  there  will 
be  no  need  of  looking  him  in  the  eye."  And  would  not  this  be 
an  advantage  gained  ?  It  is,  indeed,  a  shameful  betrayal,  to 
surrender  a  friend — and  in  this  case,  how  much,  yea  many,  many 
times  more  than  a  friend — into  the  hands  of  his  enemies  while 
asleep.  But  how  can  it  be  helped,  if  conscience  be  so  cowardly 
that  it  dare  not  look  the  man  in  the  eye?  "Betray  him  in 
sleep."  Ah,  that  is  a  wise  thought.  The  friends  of  Jesus  be- 
trayed, and  at  the  same  time,  one's  own  consciences. 

But  this  first  contrivance,  at  least,  miscarries.  In  the  house 
through  which  the  way  to  the  garden  runs,  Judas  is  informed 
that  the  eye  of  the  dreaded  was  awake — that  Jesus  was  with 
the  disciples  in  the  garden.  How  now,  Judas  ?  How  wilt  thou 
now  secure  thy  prey  ?  How  cheat  thy  conscience  ?  Cunning 
must  invent  some  new  plan.  What  the  cowardly  soul  expects 
of  itself,  that  it  expects  also  from  the  Lord.  Judas  fears  his 
flight.  How  shall  he  make  sure  of  his  prey  ?  It  will  not  do  to 
approach  him  with  the  audible  sounds  of  treachery — he  may  not 
call  aloud,  "  This  is  he — seize  him."  Softly  must  he  steal  on 
his  way,  unsuspected,  like  the  snake  gliding  under  the  grass. 
The  armed  troop  remain  behind  at  the  garden  door,  and  the 
traitor  advances  alone,  as  if  it  were  the  visit  of  a  friend  at  the 

13* 


298  FREDERIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

hour  of  night.  Ah,  Judas  ;  amid  all  these  various  manoeuvres, 
has  nothing  within,  meanwhile,  spoken  to  thee  ?  When  the 
first  step  failed,  was  there  no  rebuke  of  conscience  ? 

Sin  ever  treads  upon  uncertain  ground.  Especially  is  it  wont 
to  take  alarm,  and  feel  insecure  after  the  first  effort  has  miscar- 
ried. It  takes  long  years  of  hardening,  before  the  sinner  comes 
to  feel  tlie  ground  so  firm  beneath  his  tread  as  not  to  trem- 
ble at  his  first  failure.  Novices  in  crime  cannot  endure  to  be 
thus  frustrated  ;  they  are  startled  by  it,  and  fancy  they  see  the 
ministers  of  God's  justice  close  at  their  heels.  They  shrink  back 
at  every  step,  as  if  there  were  traps  right  and  left,  and  each 
moment  brought  them  to  an  abyss.  Here  you  perceive  how 
difiicult  it  is  for  the  sinner  to  rid  himself  of  the  conviction,  that 
sin  has  no  right  in  the  world — that  it  is  already  judged — that 
the  divine  administration  has  set  a  curse  upon  it,  that  it  is 
nowhere  safe,  and  exists  only  as  an  outlaw.  Judas,  art  thou 
only  a  novice  in  the  business,  or  hast  thou  learned  to  flout  thy 
conscience  ?  Oh,  couldst  thou  not  even  then  have  paused  'to 
reflect  and  amend,  when  thou  foundest  awake  and  watchful  the 
eye  of  Him  whom  thou  didst  hope  to  arrest  in  sleep  ?  Couldst 
thou  not  then  have  discerned  the  finger  of  thy  God  directing 
thy  notice  within  ?  Alas  !  it  is  all  in  vain.  Conscience  may  have 
spoken  never  so  loud  ;  for  Judas  its  voice  was  but  a  challenge  to 
exert  himself  the  more  skillfully  to  deceive  it,  as  he  proceeded. 

Observe  ye  not,  how  in  this  kiss  of  Judas,  there  is  evinced  a 
cunning  which  would  fain  not  only  deceive  Jesus,  but  even  his 
own  conscience  itself?  That  kiss  shows  conclusively,  that  he 
had  entered  upon  this  whole  work  of  treachery  with  great  inward 
compunctions,  and  that  as  he  encountered  the  waking  eye  of  his 
Lord,  these  compunctions  stung  him  more  deeply  to  the  quick. 
That  kiss  was  a  token  of  respect  and  love,  and  with  it  he  hoped 
to  lay  his  rebuking  conscience  asleep.  But  there  was  also  another 
advantage  counted  on.  Judas  thought  by  his  greeting  to  avoid 
the  necessity  of  encountering  in  Jesus  the  eye  of  a  Judge,  and  to 
enjoy  the  chance  of  once  more  beholding  in  Him,  as  a  friend,  a 


THE   BETKAYAL    OF   JESUS.  299 

friend's  look.  But,  Judas,  liast  tliou  tlicn,  tlic  heart  to  look 
iuto  the  eye  of  tliy  friend,  when  thou  darest  not  meet  the  eye 
of  thy  Judge  ?  Oppressive  enough  may  even  this  effort  have 
been  to  him  ;  but  oh,  would  that  he  had  chosen  not  to  take 
a  last  look  at  all  into  that  eye,  neither  as  being  the  eye  of 
a  judge,  nor  as  being  the  eye  of  a  friend.  Still,  there  was  no 
other  elioice.  Perhaps,  you  think,  he  never  understood  that 
expression  of  exalted  love  in  Christ.  Oh,  had  this  been  the  case, 
then  would  his  guilt  have  proved  infinitely  less.  But,  no. 
Traitor  as  he  was,  he  had  belonged  to  the  number  of  those 
whom  the  Father  had  drawn  to  the  Son,  and  therefore  is  his 
guilt  so  heavy.  ''These  that  thou  gavest  me  I  have  kept," 
says  the  Saviour,  "  and  none  of  them  is  lost,  but  the  son  of  per- 
dition." So,  then,  even  Judas  had  been  given  by  the  Father  to 
the  Saviour,  and  the  Father  had  drawn  him  to  the  Son  ;  but  he 
would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  drawn  ;  and  it  is  precisely  this 
which  makes  his  deed  so  dark.  Yet,  even  then,  some  gleam  of 
Heaven's  light  might  have  shone  upon  him  from  out  the  eye  of 
Jesus  ;  but  the  sin  in  progress  gives  the  lie  to  any  hope  of  favor, 
even  had  it  dawned,  Afterwards,  however,  when  the  deed  is 
done,  it  vindicates  again  its  own  right.  That  heaven's  light 
then  becomes  a  fire-brand  in  his  bosom  ;  and  that  fire-brand 
he  took  into  his  soul  with  this  last  look.  In  the  subsequent 
anguish  of  his  despair,  this  last  look  into  the  eye  of  Jesus  finds 
utterance,  "  I  have  betrayed  innocent  blood.  I  have  betrayed 
innocent  blood."  There,  you  see  how  the  innocent  blood  is 
turned  into  a  sea  of  fire,  which  has  rolled  up  its  flames  within 
his  heart,  and  it  was  this  last  holy,  mild  look  of  Jesus  which 
testified  to  that  innocence. 

Thus  it  is  seen,  that  even  though  man  may  part  from  his  con- 
science, it  nevertheless  does  not  part  from  him.  Oh,  if  there  be 
any  among  you  who  have  forsaken  conscience,  even  though  it 
may  not  be  altogether,  but  only  in  reference  to  some  one  par- 
ticular lust,  and  if  you  discover  that  conscience  has  not  forsaken 
you,  oh,  recognize  therein,  I  entreat  yon,  the  good  angel  of  God 


300  FREDERIC    A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

And,  Judas,  even  so,  thou  mayest  still  recognize  it  ;  thou  mayest 
yet  retreat.  When  the  rebuking  glance  of  love  smote  Peter 
after  his  denial,  then  "  he  went  out,  and  wept  bitterly."  And, 
Judas,  thou  mayest  still  do  likewise.  But,  alas  !  how  much 
more  difficult  had  this  become  for  him  now,  than  it  was  an  hour 
before  ;  now,  there  is  a  host  of  bailiffs  in  the  rear  ;  and  accom- 
plices in  his  ovrn  crime  bar  retreat.  Witli  every  step  forward, 
the  path  of  sin  grows  more  precipitous  ;  each  act  committed, 
yea,  the  very  warnings  of  conscience  itself,  those  good  angels  of 
God,  turn  into  avenging  furies,  which  drive  the  man  onwards 
with  increasing  velocity.  Now,  the  entire  host  of  the  ministers 
of  justice  are  behind  Judas.  The  very  steps  which  the  man  has 
taken  in  his  evil  course,  become  the  officers  which  are  to  arrest 
him,  if  he  wishes  to  turn  back  ;  and  w^hich  now  keep  urging 
him  to  the  end,  even  though  it  might  be  against  his  will.  And 
this  involuntarincss  in  iniquity,  is  it  not  one  of  the  most  fearful 
aspects  of  human  wickedness  ? 

The  fact  of  Judas  betraying  the  Son  of  Man  with  the  token 
of  reverence  and  love,  while  it  testifies  to  his  compunctions  at 
the  deed,  also  gives  proof  of  its  deep  turjpilude.  Every  step 
onward  in  his  course  of  sin — yea,  the  very  means  employed  to 
purchase  quiet  of  conscience,  becomes  even  more  reprehensible 
and  monstrous.  That  sweet  token,  consecrated  among  all  man- 
kind to  love — to  take  just  this,  and  use  it  as  a  signal  for  treach- 
ery— who  does  not  shudder  at  the  deed  ?  Does  not  sin  appear 
to  us  all  the  more  horrible — and  justly,  too — when  it  adopts 
sacred  means  for  its  unhallowed  objects.  Theft,  by  a  reprobate 
child,  assassination  in  the  church,  poisoning  by  means  of  the 
consecrated  wafer,  even  such  is  betrayal  by  a  kiss.  It  is  the 
deceit,  the  hypocrisy  in  the  thing,  which  shocks  us,  although 
it  must  be  said  in  the  instance  before  us,  that  a  rude  act  of 
violence  perpetrated  by  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  would  have  been 
still  more  revolting.  Oh,  Judas,  what  a  firebrand  to  thy  con- 
science must  this  kiss  of  thine  have  become  I  Thou  child  of 
perdition,  say,  when  thou  just  touchedst  those  sacred  lips,  which, 


THE   BETEAYAL   OF   JESUS.  301 

by  means  of  this  thy  kiss,  were  seen  to  turn  pale  in  death,  did 
there  not  come  up  to  remembrance  before  thee  those  precious 
moments,  when  thou  stoodest  listening  to  words  issuing  from 
that  holy  mouth — such  as  no  other  human  lips  ever  spake  to 
thee  ? — moments  when  thou  couldst  look  into  that  holy,  mild 
eye,  without  fear  of  conscience,  and  with  a  heart  most  blessed. 
Ah,  yes,  that  kiss,  it  could  not  but  have  been  a  firebrand  for 
thy  conscience. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  saddened  glance  away  from  this  deed, 
to  apply  the  words  of  our  Saviour  on  the  occasion  to  ourselves. 
We  saw  Him  arising  a  few  moments  before  in  deepest  agitation 
of  spirit  from  His  bitter  conflict  in  the  garden.  And  now  mark 
the  deep,  divine  repose  evinced  in  the  language  with  which  He 
received  the  traitor.  ''Judas,  betray  est  thou  the  Son  of  Man 
with  a  kiss  ?"  There  is  no  ebullition  of  anger  here  ;  indeed,  no 
ebulhtion  of  passion  ever  disturbed  the  placid  mirror  of  that 
holy  soul,  but  there  is  not  even  an  expression  of  sorrow  over 
that  bitter  cup,  which,  with  and  through  that  kiss,  was  presented 
to  His  lips.  He  looks  not  at  himself,  but  only  at  the  lost  child  ; 
He  considers  not  His  own  suffering,  but  only  the  crime  of  His 
betrayer.  Perceive  ye  not  already  in  these  words  what  a  deep 
calm  had  followed  upon  the  loud  storm  ?  what  undisturbed 
repose  had  succeeded  to  the  mighty  commotion  that  had  agitated 
His  breast.  Here,  again,  we  become  impressed  with  that  appear- 
ance of  mystery,  which  His  wonted  repose  of  manner,  and  perfect 
self-possession  ever  imparted  to  all  His  words  and  deeds  through 
life. 

It  is  the  last  word  He  ever  exchanges  with  this  son  of  perdi- 
tion, and  this  is  still  a  w^ord  of  love.  And  there  had  been  so 
many  words  of  love  !  yet,  like  drops  of  water  falling  on  hot 
stones,  they  bad  become  dissipated  in  a  moment.  Already  had 
Christ  bidden  him,  "What  thou  dost,  do  quickly  ;"  and  does  it 
not  seem  as  if  with  these  words  Jesus  had  given  up  the  wretched 
disciple  for  lost  1  as  if  the  Saviour  had  thereupon  dismissed  him 
to  hell  ?    But  He  has  for  him  yet  one  word  of  questioning  love. 


302  FEEDERIC   A.    G.    TnOLTJCK. 

He  might,  indeed,  instead,  have  hurled  into  his  soul  one  ques- 
tioning word  of  thunder  ;  He  might  have  called  down  upon  him 
a  woe  of  horror,  but.  He  chides  not,  He  imprecates  not,  He  only 
asks ;  and  may  we  not  say,  that,  so  long  as  a  question  is  put  to 
the  soul,  there  is  an  answer  from  it  possible  ?  that  at  least  some 
echo  of  it  might  be  heard  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  heart  ? 
That  most  fearful  word  in  the  sinner's  life — "Too  late" — even 
up  to  this  time,  the  Lord  does  not  seem  to  have  spoken  it 
respecting  Judas  ;  although  we  might  have  looked  for  it  after 
hearing  that  order  :   "What  thou  doest,  do  quickly." 

In  like  manner,  the  merifcul  heart  of  the  Saviour  still  inter- 
rogates every  child  of  perdition — even  though  he  may  be  stand- 
ing on  the  very  verge  of  destruction  ;  and  so  long  as  Jesus  con- 
tinues to  question,  so  long  then  is  an  answer  possible — a  way 
to  return  open.  Oh,  ye  who  have  not  hitherto  hearkened  to  his 
questions,  would  that  ye  might,  even  at  the  last  moment,  give 
ear  to  them.  But  alas  !  it  happens,  that  for  those  who  have  heard, 
again,  and  again — but  all  to  no  purpose — the  very  ability  to 
hear  grows  so  dull — so  dull  that  the  questions  of  Jesus  sound 
in  the  soul  only  as  muflled  thunder-peals.  And  these  questions 
of  love  have  no  more  the  power  to  waken — but  only  to  alarm. 
And  how  sad  is  the  impression,  when  we  recount  those  affec- 
tionate appeals,  which,  from  the  beginning  onward,  God  ad- 
dresses, during  a  whole  life,  to  the  heart  of  one  who  has  wan- 
dered from  the  path  of  righteousness,  and  become  apostate.  At 
the  outset  there  was  the  modest,  and  partially-decided  "Yes, 
Lord,"  audibly  responded  ;  then  in  proportion  as  sin  became 
bolder,  this  "yes"  would  grow  more  uncertain  and  feeble,  and 
at  last,  how  it  dies  away  altogether,  or  is  changed  into  a  defiant 
"  No."  When  the  Lord,  on  an  earlier  occasion,  put  the  question 
to  the  disciples,  "  Will  ye  also  go  away  ?"  then  Judas  could  under- 
stand it,  and  could  give  it  the  right  answer.  That  was  the  first 
question  of  love.     Oh,  how  did  his  heart  appear  at  this  last  I 

It  was  no  thunder  tone  of  denunciation — it  was  no  impreca- 
tion of  woe,  which  the  Lord  poured  forth  on  Judas.     There  was 


THE   BETRAYAL   OF   JESUS.  303 

love  with  him  still — nay,  if  you  please,  a  certain  degree  of  con- 
fidence preserved  in  this  warning  question.  But  along  with  this, 
how  distinctly  also  is  wounded  majesty  heard  to  speak.  There 
is  here  no  weak,  sentimental  love.  Jesus  does  not  say,  "  Oh, 
thou  dear  disciple,  how  could  you  do  this  to  your  dear  Master  ?" 
The  words  are  few  and  earnest,  and  they  bear  the  impress  of  a 
majestic,  yet  dishonored,  royal  love — ''Judas,  betrayest  thou  the 
Son  of  man  with  a  kiss  V  That  which  we  just  now  perceived  to 
be  the  height  of  enormity  in  this  act  of  treachery,  viz. :  the  de- 
secration of  the  universally  consecrated  token  of  love  into  a  cover 
for  treason — this  in  particular  is  it  which  the  Saviour  here  seizes 
upon  and  holds  up  to  view ;  and  still  further,  he  alludes  to  the 
special  dignity  of  Him,  who  was  given  over  to  death  by  this 
token.  Human  relations  here  receded  into  the  back-ground. 
Though  it  is  the  Friend — the  public  Benefactor,  who  is  betrayed 
— yet  of  all  this  not  a  word.  "  Thou  hast  betrayed  the  Son  of 
Man'' — the  man  without  spot  or  sin — Him  through  whom  alone 
human  nature  obtains  its  proper  humanity. 

See  with  what  majesty  the  Lord  speaks  of  himself.  He  plants 
the  traitor,  not  before  a  human  tribunal,  but  before  the  throne 
of  God  ;  for  it  is  not  merely  against  human  hearts,  and  human 
feelings  that  he  is  transgressing,  but  it  is  against  the  heart  of 
God  himself — since  he  was  betraying  the  only  begotten  of  the 
Father.  Just  at  the  moment  when  human  feelings  in  the  Sa- 
viour might  have  obtained  the.  readiest  utterance — then  spake 
out  in  Him  only  the  feeling  of  violated  majesty.  Ah,  that  word 
could  be  for  Judas  no  more  an  angel  of  deliverance  :  for  this 
it  was  too  late  ;  and  because  it  could  not  be  for  him  an  angel 
of  deliverance,  it  became  for  him  an  angel  of  vengeance.  It 
brought  the  entire  weight  of  his  guilt  down  upon  his  conscience 
at  once — even  the  guilt  of  treason  against  the  great  King. 
When  that  conscience  cried,  "  Thou  hast  betrayed  innocent 
blood" — then  was  he  forced  to  add,  "  and  that  innocent  blood 
was  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  man — the  Saviour  of  Israel  ;  and- 
under  the  garb  of  love  didst  thou  betray  him  " 


304  FREDERIC   A.    G.   TnOLTJCK. 

And  what  does  all  this  teach  us?  Does  it  apply  only  to 
criminals,  and  not  at  all  to  such  righteous  people  as  we  are  ?  Is 
there,  then,  no  one  among  us  who  is  seeking  to  betray  his  con- 
science ?  Have  you  never  discovered  that,  as  with  Judas,  so 
with  you,  every  stejD  in  sin  turns  behind  you  into  an  executioner 
of  Justice,  which  draws  you  onward  in  your  headlong  course  ? 
Have  you  not  heard  those  questions  of  love  from  Jesus,  which 
follow  the  sinner  even  until  he  stands  but  one  remove  from  the 
abyss  ?  Are  there  none  here  who  have  become — and  are  daily 
acting  the  part  of  traitors  to  the  love  of  the  Son  of  Man  ?  We 
may  not,  perhaps,  have  approached  so  near  the  abyss,  upon  that 
precipitous  path  along  which  Judas  plunged — yet  it  must  be 
said  that  every  man  is  on  that  path,  who  betrays  his  conscience, 
or  is  wittingly  a  traitor  against  the  love  of  the  Son  of  man. 
Oh,  ye  secure  ones — ye  who,  as  often  as  the  divine  call,  "To- 
day if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,''  presses  on  your  heart,  begin  to 
storm,  and  say,  "  To-morrow  will  be  time  enough,"  oh,  let  that 
word  of  alarm,  "  Too  late,"  fall  with  fresh  force  on  your  con- 
science. Learn  from  the  instance  of  Judas,  how  when  a  man 
despises  the  grace  of  Jesus,  God's  angels  of  deliverance  become 
to  his  hardened  heart  the  ministers  of  vengeance.  Behold  in 
his  example,  how  a  sinner,  who  has  rushed  onwards,  careless, 
and  secure,  without  reflection,  when  he  comes  to  the  precipice 
and  desires  to  retreat,  can  go  back  no  more,  but  is  hurried  over 
into  the  abyss  below,  by  the  very  despair  of  his  own  conscience. 
He  that  hath  ears  to  hear  let  him  hear  I  He  that  hath  ears  to 
hear  let  him  hear  I 


DISCOURSE     XYI. 

THE  CHRISTIAN  LIFE,  A  GLORIFIED  CHILDHOOD. 

Brethren  in  Christ,  what  a  beautiful  characteristic  is  it  of 
our  faith,  that  it  is  so  simple  in  itself,  and  begets  in  us  a  like 
simplicity.  Where,  outside  the  sphere  of  the  Gospel,  do  we 
hear  singleness  of  heart  praised  as  a  high  virtue .  To  us,  never- 
theless, who  are  in  Christ,  this  divine  simplicity  shines  with  the 
brilliancy  of  a  jewel,  as  the  crown  of  all  virtues,  without  which 
the  rest  appear  dalland  dim. 

The  Gospel  makes  us  single-minded,  when  it  proclaims  to  us 
that  ''one  thing  is  needful,"  and,  together  with  this,  imparts  an 
inclination  towards  the  one  eternal  magnet  and  centre,  to  which 
all  our  endeavors  should  be  directed.  It  carries  on  the  work 
also,  when,  after  that  God  in  Christ  has  become  the  centre  of 
our  efforts,  it  again  simplifies  all  our  virtues  and  duties,  by 
summing  them  up  in  this  one  injunction  :  "  Become  as  little 
children."  Where,  in  all  antiquity,  have  you  heard  a  precept 
like  this  ?  And  does  it  not  sound  to  your  hearts  as  a  greeting 
from  home?  Does  it  not  move  upon  your  souls,  awakeniug 
there  holiest  longings  and  sweetest  anticipations  ? 

This  happy  destiny  of  Christians  to  become  as  children,  let  us 
this  day  once  more  bring  before  our  contemplation  ;  and  consider 
anew  the  so-often  heard,  but,  alas  I  so  often  forgotten  precept 
of  our  Lord  in  Matt,  xviii.  3  : 

"Verily,  I  say  uuto  you,  except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye 
ehall  in  nowise  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 


306  FKEDEKIC   A.    G.    TIIOI^UCK. 

Tht  Christian  life,  is  a  glorified  childhood :  such  is  the  truth 
which  these  words  teach  us.     , 

That  in  childhood  certain  attributes  are  manifested  which 
exhibit  to  us  the  fundamental  tendencies  of  a  Christian  spirit,  is 
inferrible  from  the  fact  that  our  Lord  at  several  times,  and  in 
various  though  kindred  aspects,  set  before  His  disciples  little 
children  as  their  examiDle.  And  does  it  not  readily  occur  to  you 
that  what  the  Apostle  Paul  affirms  of  love,  viz.  :  "It  belie veth 
all  things,  it  endureth  all  things,  it  hopeth  all  things,"  involves 
just  the  conception  we  form  of  a  truly  good  and  pious  child  ? 
Indeed,  may  we  not  say,  that  so  far  as  it  regards  the  three 
ground-tones  of  the  Christian  life,  good  children  might  be  taken 
as  our  instructors,  viz.  :  as  teachers  in  Faith,  teachers  in  Love, 
teachers  in  Hope  ?  For  a  general  apprehension  of  the  meaning 
of  our  Lord's  precepts,  I  certainly  know  of  no  statement  more 
expressive  than  this,  that  good  children  are  to  be  our  examples 
in  faith,  love,  and  hoj)e. 

It  will  be  understood,  meanwhile,  that  the  comparison  here 
does  not  hold  good  in  all  respects.  That  in  the  child,  as  well  as 
in  the  adult,  the  old  Adam,  the  poison  of  selfishness,  exists  from 
its  earliest  unfolding,  is  a  truth  well  known  ;  and  we  may  not 
suffer  ourselves  to  be  deceived  in  regard  to  it,  by  the  evil  appear- 
ing in  forms  which  belong  to  that  sphere  in  which  childhood 
lives  and  moves.  Whether  it  be  the  mighty  conqueror,  who, 
from  envy  ravages  whole  territories  with  violent  hand,  or  the 
child,  who,  from  envy,  spoils  its  playmate's  toys,  the  old  Adam 
is  the  same,  even  though  it  is  clad  in  a  child's  garb.  Accord- 
ingly, the  language  of  our  Saviour  cannot  be  taken  as  exhorting 
us  to  become  children  in  all  points  ;  and  at  the  very  outset,  we 
are  to  bear  in  mind,  that  in  the  stage  of  childhood  there  also 
exists  something  which  we  arc  not  permitted  to  transfer  into 
our  Christian  life.  This  fact  has  also  been  set  forth  with  suffi- 
cient definiteness  by  the  Apostle  where  he  says  ;  "Brethren,  be 
not  children  in  understanding  ;  howbeit,  in  malice  be  ye  children, 
but  in  understanding  be  ye  men."    From  this  you  perceive  why 


THE   CHKISTIAN   LIFE,    A   GLORIFIED   CHILDHOOD.         307 

we  are  not  at  liberty  to  say  absolutely — the  Christian  life  is-  a 
cliildhood,  but  are  obliged  to  add  the  qualificatiou,  a  glorified 
childhood.  With  the  assistance  of  our  Saviour,  let  us  now  pro- 
ceed to  consider  more  closely  the  nature  of  tJiis  glorified  child- 
hood, as  it  manifests  itself  in  the  faith,  in  the  love,  and  in  the 
hojpe  of  the  Christian. 

The  Christian  life  is  a  glorified  childhood  in  Faith.  The. 
child  confides  in  his  superiors  unhesitatingly ;  he  trusts,  nothing 
doubting,  his  parents  and  teachers.  Is  there,  I  ask,  a  more 
touching  sight  than  to  see  a  group  of  children,  who,  with  thirsty, 
inquiring  eyes,  are  hanging  to  their  mother,  or  to  their  father, 
and  imbibing  every  word  from  those  hallowed  lips  as  a  gospel. 
Nothing,  I  am  sure,  would  prompt  me  to  strive,  whatever  my 
creed  might  be,  with  more  earnestness  and  greater  conscientious- 
ness after  religious  truth,  than  to  be  planted  in  the  midst  of  a 
company  of  child-like  hearts.  In  conversation  with  adults,  I 
think  to  myself,  "  They  need  not  take  all  I  say  on  trust  ;  they 
can  see  for  themselves,  whether  I  am  giving  them  bread,  or  a 
stone."  But  the  little  darlings,  they  cannot  be  so  discerning  ; 
they  are  entirely  confident  that  they  are  receiving  from  me 
nothing  but  bread.  Oh,  thrice  cursed  be  that  man,  who  gives 
children  a  stone  instead  of  bread  I  Well  has  the  old  German 
proverb  said  :  "He  who  deceives  a  child,  is  as  if  he  had  ravished 
a  virgin."     For  are  not  children's  souls  virgin-souls  ? 

As  now  children  trust,  without  suspicion,  their  superiors  who 
speak  to  them,  so  do  we,  whom  the  Son  of  God  has  purchased 
with  his  precious,  noble  blood,  have  like  faith  in  our  Lord.  Woe 
to  him  who  sows  distrust  in  the  soul  of  the  child  towards  the 
word  of  its  mother.  Cursed  also  be  he  who  plants  a  doubt  of 
our  Lord  in  our  souls.  We  hang  on  him  with  a  true,  thirsting 
eye  ;  let  other  masters,  if  they  choose,  give  their  disciples  stones 
for  bread — a  serpent  for  fish — a  scorpion  for  an  egg  ;  the  word  of 
our  Lord  is  always  the  bread  of  life — whether  I  understand  it  or 
not.  If  I  understand  it,  then  it  nourishes  me.  If  I  understand 
it  not,  then  is  there  something  stored  up  for  me  in  the  future.    At 


308  FREDERIC    A.    G.    THOLrCK. 

any  rate,  this  I  am  certain  of,  from  the  mouth  of  my  Lord  no 
other  word  has  ever  flowed  but  a  word  of  Hfe.  He  who  has 
attained  to  this  child-hke  faith  in  his  Lord,  is  hke  one  who  has 
run  in  from  a  wide  sea  into  a  safe  haven. 

This  faith  of  the  child  we  are  speaking  of,  is  a  precious  stone 
— a  diamond — but  it  is  not  yet  polished  ;  therefore,  it  does  not 
glisten.  The  child  does  not  know  why  it  believes,  and  therefore 
it  becomes  the  prey  of  error  ;  the  natural  child-faith  is  a  faith 
without  light.  Hence,  again,  the  exhortation  of  the  Apostle  : 
"  Be  no  more  children  tossed  to  and  fro  by  every  wind  of  doc- 
trine." The  blind  child-faith  is  that  which  believes,  because 
others  have  believed  and  testified.  The  glorified  child-faith  is  that 
which  believes  because  it  has  knoion.  The  blind  child-faith  is 
that  of  the  Samaritans,  when  they  believed  in  the  word  of  the  wo- 
man who  said  to  them,  "  Come,  see  a  man  who  told  me  all  things 
that  ever  I  did  :  is  not  this  the  Christ  ?"  The  glorified  child-faith 
is  that  which  these  same  expressed  afterwards,  when  they  said, 
"  Now  we  believe,  not  because  of  thy  saying,  for  we  have  heard 
him  ourselves,  and  know  that  this  is  indeed  Christ,  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,"  The  blind  child-faith  was  that  of  Peter,  when 
he  believed  his  brother  Andrew,  as  he  told  him,  "We  have 
found  the  Messias."  The  glorified  child-faith  is  that  with  which 
Peter  afterwards  spoke,  "  We  have  believed  and  have  known, 
that  thou  art  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God." 

Listen,  ye  youth  ;  here  you  have  a  knowledge  of  the  great  ob- 
ject of  faith,  which  is  not  learned  from  parchment,  nor  acquired 
in  the  lecture-rooms  and  in  the  schools  ;  for  it  existed  long  be- 
fore your  lecture  rooms  were  built,  and  your  schools  were 
founded  ;  yea,  ere  yet  books  were  written  in  vindication  of  the 
faith,  did  glorified  child-like  souls  exclaim,  "  AVe  have  believed 
and  known,  and  have  sealed  this  witness  with  our  blood."  I  am 
here  speaking  of  that  knowledge  which  comes  from  the  light  ob- 
tained in  that  school,  where  we  all  have  been  trained — both 
learned  and  unlearned — even  the  school  of  experience.  All  of  us 
alike  once  believed  the  great  history  of  our  Redemption,  as  it  was 


THE   CITRISTIAN    LIFE,  A   GLOETFIED   CHILDHOOD.  309 

pressed  on  our  ear  from  tlie  lips  of  trusted  fathers  and  mothers. 
Now  have  we  come  to  know  it,  because  it  has  stood  the  test  of 
experience.  That  is  to  say,  we  have  found  therein  the  key  to 
the  great  problem  of  the  human  heart  ;  for  it  has  conferred  the 
light  of  truth  on  our  intelligence,  and  a  new  power  of  sanctifica- 
tion  has  it  imparted  to  our  wills,  inasmuch  as  grace  has  effected 
what  no  law  of  the  world  could  accomplish  ;  it  has  made  it 
sweet  for  us  to  hate  ourselves,  and  to  give  ourselves  daily  unto 
death,  and  it  has  caused  us  to  taste  in  our  own  consciousness 
something  of  the  powers  of  the  future  unseen  world.  So  we 
still  hang  on  his  lips  with  good  confidence  like  little  children  ; 
and  as  often  as  he  speaks,  each  blessed  word  he  utters  calls 
forth  in  our  hearts  the  responsive  Amen.  And  since  we  have 
come  to  be  trained  in  the  school  of  experience,  we  can  also  say, 
that  we  know  what  has  been  delivered  to  us  through  Him. 

The  Christian  life  is  a  glorified  childhood  in  Love.  The 
child  loves  with  an  affection  that  is  without  distinction.  Does  not 
the  child  approach  every  man  with  confidence  ?  and  is  not  con- 
fidence, in  all  cases,  a  bond  of  attraction  and  of  love  ?  Let  there 
be  but  a  human  eye — a  human  face — and  the  child  smiles  on  it ; 
it  loves  without  distinction.  The  child  of  the  prince  reaches  out 
after  the  hand  of  the  beggar  ;  the  wise  child  will  permit  itself 
to  be  led  by  the  hand  of  a  simpleton  ;  the  pious  child  will  cling 
to  the  breast  of  a  villain  : — although  in  this  case,  indeed,  it 
sometimes  happens  very  wonderfully  that  a  direct  inner  voice 
awakens  in  the  child's  heart  most  of  all  an  anxious  suspicion 
and  fearful  dread  ;  the  proximity  of  a  dark  spirit  is  not  merely 
known,  it  is  at  times  also  felt  by  it. 

And  now  may  not  we  also  say,  that  we  Christians  love,  as 
children,  without  distinction  ?  Truly  to  us  likewise  is  every  hu- 
man face  a  holy  thing  ;  only  in  this  respect  we  have  an  advan- 
tage over  the  child  ;  for  as  the  child  believes  without  light,  so 
also  does  it  love  without  wisdom.  It  understands  not  why  it  so 
loves  mankind,  and  is  therefore  as  blind  in  its  love  as  in  its  faith. 
But  we  in  whom  the  love  of  humanity  has  been  ennobled  by  the 


310  •     FKEDEEIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

Spirit  of  the  Lord — we  know  why  it  is  we  should  love  mankind 
without  distinction.  With  glorified  vision  we  read  upon  every 
huroan  brow  the  inscription  —  that  solemn  inscription  which 
makes  every  human  countenance  sacred — ''  God  hath  made  of 
one  blood  all  nations  of  men,  that  they  should  seek  the  Lord, 
if  haply  they  might  feel  after  him,  and  find  him  though  he  be 
not  far  from  every  one  of  us." 

Do  ye  read  this  superscription,  my  hearers,  do  ye  read  it  upon 
the  forehead  of  all  your  friends — your  relations — your  domestics 
— yea,  do  you  read  it  abroad  among  the  ragamufiins,  with  whom 
misery  and  vice  has  obscured  the  lettering  ?  Is  it  not  so,  that 
every  man  appears  other  than  I  represent  him— other  than  an 
immortal  spirit  who  is  able  to  find  God  ?  But  when  the  glorified 
love  has  entered  the  heart,  this  knows  at  once  wherefore  it  loves 
man  ;  and  it  knows,  too,  unto  what  ends  it  loves  him.  Oh,  man, 
is  this  thy  nobility,  that  thou  art  a  creature,  capable  of  seeking 
and  finding  God  ?  how  then  can  I  evince  my  love  to  thee  better 
than  by  helping  thee  to  seek  God  ?  Alas  I  how  feebly  is  it  re- 
cognized— ^how  rarely  do  people  consider,  that,  in  all  our  com- 
munications there  is  no  service  of  love  we  can  render  each  other 
more  essential,  than  to  assist  in  seeking  and  finding  God.  It  is 
a  a  blind,  a  carnal,  and  not  the  glorified  love,  which  we  cherish, 
when  we  love  men  without  any  reference  to  this  eternal  end  of 
their  creation.  Always  should  it  be  our  aim,  in  our  social  inter- 
course, to  keep  alive  and  manifest  some  reference  to  that  great 
object  for  the  attainment  of  which  we  are  here  upon  the  earth. 

From  this  duty  no  one  present  can  rightly  exempt  himself :  not 
even  thou,  my  brother,  who  art  complaining  that  it  is  not  in  thy 
power  to  help  any  one.  In  such  a  case,  thou  thyself  canst  not  yet 
have  found  thy  true  aim.  No,  not  even  thou  ;  for  if  thou  hast 
not  discovered  that,  which  thy  brethren  summon  thee  to  help  them 
seek,  canst  thou  not  declare,  dear  brother,  at  least  what  thou 
hast — yea,  more,  confess  what  is  lacking  1  for  even  this  will 
prove  a  blessing  to  thyself  and  others.  By  means  of  thy  very 
doubting  will  thy  broth er*s  faith   be   made   clearer — and  the 


THE   CHRISTIAN   LIFE,  A  GLORIFIED   CHILDHOOD.         311 

stones  of  thy  stumbling  will  prove  building  stones  for  the  struc- 
ture of  his  truth.  Oh,  let  there  not,  then,  be  this  reserve  in 
regard  to  the  highest  concerns  of  humanity  among  men,  who 
have  sprung  from  one  blood,  and  are  travelling  to  one  end.  And 
is  it  not  something  unnatural  beyond  measure — deny  it  who  can 
— when  among  Christians,  who  call  Christ  their  Saviour,  the 
cheeks  are  observed  to  blanch  the  moment  a  person  begins  to 
speak  earnestly  of  this  Saviour,  and  when  men  at  once  sink 
their  voice  to  a  whisper  as  often  as  they  mention  God  ? 

If  now  that  glorified  love  for  all  men,  without  distinction, 
manifests  itself  in  this,  that  it  strives  to  lead  them  to  God — yet 
it  lies  in  its  very  nature  to  make  some  distinctions  also — and 
this  out  of  love,  because  otherwise  it  cannot  conduct  to  God. 
The  eternal  distinctions,  which  the  word  of  God  himself  makes, 
between  truth  and  falsehood,  light  and  darkness,  the  children  of 
this  world  and  the  children  of  the  kingdom — these  we  cannot 
wipe  out.  Away  with  that  insipid,  carnal  love,  which  never  has 
the  force  to  exercise  a  moral  judgment.  True,  we  must  leave  it 
to  the  Searcher  of  hearts  to  judge  the  heart — but  it  is  ours  to 
judge  respecting  word  and  deed,  so  surely  as  it  stands  written  : 
"Try  the  spirits,  whether  they  be  of  God."  That  inward  shud- 
der, with  which  the  otherwise  so  artless  child,  shrinks  from  a 
face  on  which  sensuality,  pride,  revenge,  has  stamped  its  impress, 
is  it  not  to  us  something  holy  ? — does  it  not  seem  like  an  inspi- 
ration of  the  Deity  ? 

How  then  ?  This  moral  judgment  in  the  child,  which  reminds 
us  of  the  denunciatory  woes  of  a  loftier  spirit,  ought  it  not  to 
be  exercised  by  us  also — by  us  to  whom  this  spirit  has  imparted 
a  glorified  love  ?  Yea,  verily,  we  must  exercise  it.  Unto  the  day 
must  we  say,  "  Thou  art  day  ;"  and  unto  the  night  we  declare, 
"  Thou  art  night."  We  must  make  distinctions.  Only  be  it 
remembered  that,  when  love  makes  distinctions,  it  makes  them 
for  the  purpose  of  removing  them.  We  say  to  sinners,  "  ye 
stand  without,"  but  it  is  to  draw  them  within  ;  we  say,  "  ye  are 
fallen,"  but  it  is  that  they  may  look  round  for  the  hand  that 


312  FREDEKIC   A.    G.   THOLUCK. 

shall  lift  them  up  ;  we  say,  "  ye  are  the  enemies  of  God,"  but  it 
is  in  order  to  be  able  to  preach  at  the  same  time,  "  Be  ye  recon- 
ciled to  God."  "  Knowing,  therefore,  the  terror  of  the  Lord," 
says  the  Apostle,  "  we  persuade  men  ;  but  we  are  made  manifest 
unto  God."  Behold  here,  that  glorified  love,  with  which  the 
Christian  life  embraces  everything  which  is  human. 

The  child-life  is  a  life  in  Hope.  B  hopes  loithout  hounds.  The 
child  perceives  in  the  present  no  thorns  ;  and  so  it  is  capable  of 
abandoning  itself  without  reserve  to  the  floral  beauty  which 
greets  its  vision  on  every  side — and  should  it,  indeed,  cast  a 
glance  into  the  future,  even  there  it  only  sees  reflected  the 
flowers  of  the  present.  How  lovely,  also,  does  the  child  appear 
before  us  in  this  its  hopefulness  I  As  for  the  adult,  to  whom  the 
present  has  furnished  so  many  thorns,  with  what  sadness  does  he 
observe  them  strewed  into  the  far  distance  along  the  whole 
course  of  the  future — and  in  his  crystal  tears  how  does  every 
individual  sorrow  multiply  itself  a  thousand  fold  !  What  a 
refreshment  is  it,  therefore,  to  the  heart  to  see  for  once  a  man,  a 
child,  that  can  so  cordially  hope  !  Joyous  hope  makes  a  person 
so  amia'ble  ! 

Now,  whatever  is  amiable  in  the  child's  life — its  beheving,  its 
loving,  and  so  also  its  hoping — all  this,  fellow  Christians,  has  the 
grace  of  Christ  offered  to  you — and  it  proffers  it  to  you  in  a  glo- 
rified form.  That  ceaseless  hoping,  indeed,  as  childhood  hath  it, 
is  no  more  the  hope  with  which  the  disciple  of  Jesus  looks  into 
the  future  ;  as  the  faith  of  the  child  is  without  light,  as  its  love 
is  without  wisdom,  so  also  is  its  hope  without  foundation.  But 
of  us,  who  have  become  children  in  Christ  Jesus,  the  word  of 
God  demands  that  we  be  ''  ready  to  give  to  every  man  that 
asketh  us,  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  us."  It  is  essential, 
then,  to  the  Christian  hope,  that  we  know  why  we  hope.  Accord- 
ingly, let  me  first  ask  you — have  you  become  children  in  Christ 
Jesus  ? 

Have  you  also  this  seal  of  your  adoption,  that  you  can  with  a 
right  hearty  hope  look  out  upon  the  whole  course  of  the  future  as 


THE   CHKISTIAN   LIFE,  A  TEANSFIGUKED   CHILDHOOD.     313 

it  lies  before  you  ? — yea,  even  away  beyond  the  dark  limits  which 
separate  between  time  and  eternity  ?  Christians  are  children  of 
hope,  for  they  trust  in  Christ — who,  as  the  apostle  says,  is  in  his 
own  person  "  the  hope  of  glory."  Christians  are  children  of 
hope,  for,  as  the  apostle  says,  "  The  God  of  hope  has  filled  them 
with  all  joy."  Christians  are  children  of  hope,  for,  as  the  apostle 
says,  "  God,  according  to  His  abundant  mercy,  hath  begotten 
them  again  into  a  lively  hope." 

Faith  lays  the  foundation, 

Love  the  rising  structure  builds  ; 
Hope  puts  on  the  top-stone, 

Then  scans  aloft  the  eternal  fields  ! 

Yet  once  more,  have  ye  become  children  in  Christ  Jesus — go 
to,  then  !  Prove  that  this  holy  hope  dwells  in  your  hearts,  even 
a  hope  which  can  look  out  upon  the  whole  path  before  you  with 
the  fullest  composure  and  trust — even  to  the  latest  end.  Yet 
further — dear  brethren,  let  me  ask  is  our  hope,  in  like  manner 
as  our  faith,  and  our  love,  a  glorified  hope  ?  Can  ye  tell  on 
what  foundation  it  rests  ?  Here,  remember,  1  am  not  speaking 
of  that  unconcerned  carelessness,  with  which  a  trifling  spirit 
glances  into  the  future.  Christians  are  not  men  who  do  not 
care,  but  men  who  cast  their  care  upon  the  Loi'd.  Christians  are 
not  men  who  see  no  thorns  upon  the  track  of  life.  Oh,  no  ;  they 
are  men  who  perhaps  see  far  more  thorns  than  all  others  do  ; 
but  they  are  men  who  know  from  their  own  experience,  that 
where  Christ's  grace  is  granted,  all  thorns  at  last  swell  and  burst 
open  into  roses.  In  short,  Christians  are  men  who  believe  in  the 
words,  "  If  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us  ?  He  that 
spared  not  His  own  son  but  delivered  Him  up  for  us  all,  how 
shall  He  not  with  Him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ?"  Observe 
here  the  foundation  of  the  Christian  hope.  He  who  spared  not 
His  own  Son  for  our  sakes,  must  be  cherishing  kind  intentions 
toward  us  ;  and,  if  a  man  would  tread  his  path  in  hope,  he  can 
properly  require  for  this  nothing  more  than  the  hearty,  well- 

14 


314:  FEEDEEIC    A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

grounded  convictiou — "  God  means  well  with  me — God  has 
thoughts  of  peace  toward  me." 

0  ye,  who  are  wandering  in  the  world  without  hope,  without 
any  clear,  joyful  out-look  into  the  future  of  time — as  well  as 
into  that  of  eternity,  let  me  say,  you  are  w^anting  in  nothing  so 
much  as  in  the  hearty  and  assured  consciousness — "  God  means 
well  with  me."  And  why  are  you  wanting  in  this  ?  It  is  because 
the  Holy  Spirit  has  not  yet  sealed  upon  your  hearts  the  truth, 
"  that  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself." 
He,  who  can  declare  it,  not  simply  with  his  mouth,  and  to  whom 
in  the  inmost  depths  of  his  soul  it  has  become  a  strong  verity — 
that  God  has  followed  erring  man  into  the  very  thorns  of  life — 
he,  I  say,  must  be  a  man  of  joyful  hope.  Christians  are  men 
for  whom  this  is  a  solemn  truth  ;  yea,  and  not  only  this  ;  in  their 
hearts  the  love  of  God  is  poured  forth  like  a  stream,  as  the 
Apostle  says — "  And  hope  maketh  not  ashamed  because  the  love 
of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts — by  the  Holy  Ghost  which 
is  given  unto  us." 

Who  will  wonder  then  if  Christians  are  a  joyous  people  as 
children  are  ?  How  much  rather  ought  we  to  be  astonished  at 
ourselves,  if  we  are  still  sad  !  No.  The  Christian  life  is  a  trans- 
figured childhood  :  Like  children,  we  believe  without  suspicion  ; 
like  children,  we  love  without  distinction  ;  like  children,  we  hope 
without  limitation  ;  and  together  with  this  has  the  Spirit  of 
grace  given  to  our  faith,  light;  to  our  love,  wisdom,  and  to 
our  hope  an  everlasting  foundation.  Honor — and  praise — and 
worship  be  unto  Him  who  hath  done  such  great  things  for  us. 
Amen 


DISCOURSE   XYIL 
THE   TOUCHSTONE   OF   HUMAN   HEARTS. 

Those  of  us  who  have  had  much  acquaintance  with  Christians, 
especially  with  those  of  the  olden  time,  will  have  observed  how 
customary  it  was  for  them  to  confirm  remarkable  experiences  of 
the  spiritual  life,  with  the  saying  :  "  Then  was  again  fulfilled 
what  the  Scripture  saith."  Such,  too,  was  the  habit  of  the 
x'Vpostles,  and  in  just  this  sense  did  they  often  refer  to  the  words 
of  the  Old  Testament.  Herein,  then,  is  exhibited  a  deep  con- 
viction of  the  world-wide  comprehensiveness  of  the  truth  of  God's 
w^ord.  Of  this  broad  character  is  whatever  stands  on  record, 
respecting  the  doings  of  man,  or  the  ways  of  God,  more  particu- 
larly during  the  period  of  our  Lord's  manifestation  on  earth  ;  so 
that  along  the  course  of  history,  we  are  prompted  ever  and  anon 
to  exclaim:  ''There  has  the  Scripture  been  fulfilled."  With 
one  such  expression  will  our  meditations  this  day  be  occupied — 
with  a  Scripture  saying,  which  first  proved  true  in  the  history 
of  Christ,  and  has  again  and  again  been  verified  through  all 
subsequent  times.  I  refer  to  the  prophetic  exclamation  of 
the  aged  Simeon,  when,  in  the  days  of  the  legal  purification, 
the  parents  brought  the  child  Jesus,  for  the  first  time  to  the 
temple.  It  is  found  in  Luke  ii.  34,  35  :  "And  Simeon  blessed 
them,  and  said  unto  Mary  his  mother.  Behold,  this  child  is  set 
for  the  fall  and  rising  again  of  many  in  Israel ;  and  for  a  sign 
which  shall  be  spoken  against.  Yea,  a  sword  shall  pierce  through 

815 


316  FEEDEEIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

thine  own  soul  also,  that  the  thoughts  of  many  hearts  may  be 
revealed." 

We  will  first  explain  the  entire  passage,  and  then  direct  your 
attention  particularly  to  its  last  clause.  It  is  hardly  possible  to 
imagine  a  more  solemn  scene  bearing  the  impress  of  substantial 
truth,  than  that  into  which  these  words  of  the  Evangelist  trans- 
late us.  The  bare  thought  of  that  little  company,  which,  as  we 
are  told,  had  gathered  about  the  child  Jesus,  is  enough  to 
awaken  in  us  the  liveliest  emotions.  It  is  said  that  there 
were  assembled  there  those  who  were  "  waiting  for  ^e  consola- 
tion of  Israel."  These,  of  course,  were  but  a  small  fraction  of 
the  great  multitude  then  gathering  in  Jerusalem — a  select  few 
only,  in  whose  hearts  there  burned  this  one  desire  :  "  That  the 
Deliverer  w^ould  come  out  of  Zion,  and  take  away  ungodliness 
from  us."  The  number  could  not  have  been  large,  and  most  of 
these,  it  is  likely,  w^ere  aged  people.  Simeon  and  Hannah,  at 
least,  were  far  advanced  in  years.  A  touching  thought  is  it, 
also,  that  they  oftentimes  found  themselves  collected  precisely 
here  in  the  temple,  in  order  to  pray  in  company.  Besides,  to 
Simeon  was  it  expressly  promised,  that  he  should  not  die  before 
he  had  seen  the  salvation  of  the  Lord.  And  now  the  long- 
desired  child  of  heaven  approaches,  borne  upon  the  arm  of  its 
mother.  But  how  are  they  to  recognize  it  ?  It  is,  indeed,  a 
holy  thing,  but  no  halo  of  glory  surrounds  its  head.  It  is  a  king 
without  a  diadem.  The  grace  of  God,  nevertheless,  resolves  the 
difficulty.  To  Simeon  is  the  truth  supernaturally  revealed. 
Under  the  impulse  of  the  divine  Sph'it,  he  now  advances,  and 
significantly  addresses  himself,  not  to  the  father,  but  to  the 
mother.  It  is  no  sweet,  flattering  speech,  however  ;  no  bright, 
smiling  vision  of  future  triumphs  which  he  utters.  Simeon  calls 
the  babe  a  rock  ;  but  a  rock  whereon  a  part  of  Israel  would  be 
broken.  His  prophetic  eye  also  discerns  the  sword,  which 
should,  ere  long,  pierce  the  mother's  aching  heart,  in  order,  as 
he  says,  ^Uhat  the  thoughts  of  many  hearts  might  he  revealed.^' 
With  these  words,  which  refer  particularly  to  that  time  when 


THE   TOUCHSTONE   OF   HUMAN   IIEAKTS.  317 

the  sword  actually  pierced  the  mother's  heart,  the  prophetic 
speech  concludes.  We  lay  them  at  the  foundation  of  our  now- 
commencing  series  of  discourses,  and  derive  from  them  this  doc- 
trine : 

The  Manifestation  of  Christ  is  the  Touchstone  of  Human 
Hearts,  through  which  is  first  revealed  what  is  in  every 

MAN. 

Let  us  consider  this  subject,  first,  in  its  more  general  aspect, 
and  then  as  it  is  particularly  manifest  in  the  history  of  our 
Lord's  passion. 

The  manifestation  of  Christ  is  the  touchstone  of  human  hearts, 
by  which  that  which  is  in  every  man  is  first  clearly  revealed.  There 
are  some,  but  not  many,  who  have  the  power  of  readily  detect- 
ing what  is  in  men.  Almost  every  individual  knows  what  is  iu 
himself.  But  what  do  we  mean,  when  we  say  there  is  something 
in  a  man  ?  This  expression  strikes  deeper  than  many  may 
imagine.  Rarely  is  it  used  merely  in  reference  to  the  talents 
or  gifts  which  a  man  may  possess.  It  rather  pertains  to  the 
manner  in  which  these  gifts  are  employed.  We  understand  by 
it,  not  so  much  what  a  man  has,  as  what  he  is.  The  disposition, 
the  will,  is  intended.  And  this  is  just  what  the  Scripture  means, 
when  it  says,  that  "  the  hearts  of  men  were  revealed  through 
Christ.''  For,  according  to  the  saying  of  our  Lord,  it  is  out  of 
the  heart  that  evil  thoughts  proceed,  and  of  the  thoughts  and 
ways  of  the  heart  it  is  affirmed,  that  it  is  evil  from  "  its  youth 
up."  The  heart  is  the  seat  of  affection.  The  worth  of  a  man  is 
determined  by  what  he  loves.  We  love,  indeed,  only  that  with 
which  we  have  some  inward  affinity — that  in  which  we  find 
ourselves  again.  Whatever  object  you  love  most,  determines 
your  worth.  The  incomprehensible  good,  which  is  above  all 
other  good,  because  it  is  the  foundation  and  source  of  all  other 
good,  even  God,  He  is,  above  all  things,  worthy  of  our  love. 
This  we  unanimously  admit.  For  who  is  there  that  does  not 
admit  it  ?  But  will  any  one,  treating  the  whole  matter  as  some- 
thing vague,  affirm  :  "Thou  lovest  Him,  in  a  certain  sense,  and 


318  FEEDEEIC    A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

SO,  too,  thou  lovest  Him  not  ?"  Is  not  our  love  for  Him  as  im- 
palpable and  hidden  as  He  is  himself  ?  Is  it  not  the  mystery 
which  every  soul  performs  in  its  most  retired  chambers,  as  within 
closed  doors  ? 

My  friends,  I  will  not  now  stop  to  show  that  although  the 
flame  of  love  to  God  may  glow  in  the  heart,  deeply  concealed, 
yet  it  must  manifest  its  fervor  in  works.  I  will  ask  but  this, 
can  God  still  be  called  a  hidden,  unseen  object  of  love,  now  that 
Christ  has  come  into  the  world  ?  John  says  :  "  Whosoever 
loveth  Him  that  begat,  loveth  Him  also  that  is  begotten  of  Him. 
No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time.  If  we  love  one  another, 
God  dwelleth  in  us."  Here,  you  perceive  the  whole  matter  at 
a  glance.  Although  we  may  persuade  ourselves  a  thousand 
times  that  we  are  cherishing  a  love  to  the  unseen  God,  so  long 
as  we  have  no  affection  for  those  whom  He  has  begotten  again 
through  Christ,  and  whom  He  has  made  to  reflect  His  grace  and 
truth,  there  is  no  true  love  in  us — all  our  professions  are  empty 
words.  There  is  not  one  of  you,  my  brethren,  who  would  not 
raise  an  outcry  against  the  man  who  should  desert  the  brother 
in  whose  veins  there  flowed  the  same  ancestral  blood  as  in  his 
own.  Such  a  person  we  would  all  term  a  monster,  to  whom 
there  is  nothing  sacred  in  the  name  or  in  the  memory  of  father. 
And  can*we,  then,  in  truth,  love  our  Father  in  heaven,  and  at 
the  same  time  withhold  our  affections  from  that  brother  in  whom 
reigns  the  same  spirit  of  grace  and  truth  through  which  we  have 
been  begotten  anew  ? 

But  I  go  yet  further,  and  say,  that  our  love  for  an  individual 
who  might  be  manifesting  only  a  somewhat  lively  religious  striv- 
ing— or  an  inclination  even  of  the  heart  towards  God — is  also  a 
touchstone  by  which  our  inward  thoughts  are  revealed.  For 
certain  it  is,  that  all  contemplation  of,  and  longing  after  God 
among  men,  finds  its  perfection  only  in  Christ.  If  this  be  so, 
can  we  regard  the  yearnings  of  any  human  heart  which  thirsts 
after  light  and  life  from  God,  in  any  other  aspect  than  as  stand- 
ing in  connection  with  Christ  ?     "  Whosoever  is  of  God,  heareth 


THE   TOUCHSTONE   OF   HUMAN    HEARTS.  310 

God's  voice,"  says  our  Lord,  and  then  he  explains  tlie  assertion 
by  affirming  that  no  one  finds  God,  save  be  in  whom  God's  Spirit 
is  already  operating  ;  and  that  no  one  can  come  to  the  Son, 
save  he  who  is  drawn  of  the  Father.  Behold  there  stands  the 
aged  John  in  his  eightieth  year,  and  exclaims  with  all  the  fire 
of  his  youthful  ardor  :  "  And  we  beheld  His  glory— the  glory 
as  of  the  only-begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth." 
And  again,  in  his  first  epistle  :  "  For  the  Life  was  manifested, 
and  we  have  seen  it,  and  bear  witness,  and  show  unto  you  that 
eternal  Life  which  was  with  the  Father,  and  which  was  mani- 
fested unto  us."  If  this  be  the  character  of  Christ — if  Christ 
is  the  manifested  life  of  God — if  He  is  the  visible  Sou  of  the 
invisible  Father,  why  may  I  not  then  say,  that  in  the  feelings 
which  we  all  cherish  towards  the  Son,  we  are  truly  indicating 
whether  we  are  sincere  in  our  professions  of  love  to  the  Father. 
Yea,  indeed,  ever  since  He  has  come  into  the  world,  who  once 
could  say,  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  lowly  in  heart ;"  and  who  at 
another  time  dared  to  utter  that  which  never  yet  had  passed  the 
lips  of  mortal :  "  He  that  seeth  me  hath  seen  the  Father  also  ;" 
ever  since  that  period  the  only-begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of 
grace  and  truth,  we  assert,  has  been  set  before  us  as  a  touch- 
stone, which  is  to  make  known  what  of  truth  there  may  be  in 
our  love  to  God,  and  what  there  is  in  ourselves. 

We  have  learned  from  Simeon  a  word  of  prophecy  that  con- 
veys this  thought.  Let  us  receive  the  same  from  the  very  mouth 
of  Him  who  was  the  lowliest  among  the  children  of  men.  It  is 
a  remarkable  utterance  to  which  I  now  refer  you.  When  its 
meaning  for  the  first  time  dawned  upon  me — when,  for  the  first 
time  my  soul  clearly  apprehended  its  deep  import — with  what 
wonderful  power  did  it  seize  me  I  How  was  I  startled  as  my 
eye  saw  into  the  true  source  of  all  love  to  Christ,  and  of  all 
alienation  from  Him  !  And  here  I  speak  to  your  own  experience. 
We  read  in  John  :  ''And  the  Father  himself,  which  hath  sent 
me,  hath  borne  witness  of  me.  Ye  have  neither  heard  His  voice 
at  any  time,  nor  seen  His  shape.     And  ye  have  not  His  word 


320  FREDEEIC    A.    G.    THOLTJCK. 

abiding  in  you  ;  for  whom  He  bath  sent,  Hiu2  ye  believe  not.  I 
receive  not  honor  from  men.  But  I  know  you,  that  ye  have  not 
the  love  of  God  in  you."  The  thoughts  here  are  strung  together 
in  a  loose  connection  ;  and  it  may  be  that  their  real  drift  has 
escaped  many  of  you.  What  the  Lord  charged  upon  the  Jews 
is  this  :  that  they  loved  him  not,  because  they  had  not  the  love 
of  God  in  themselves.  He  asserts  that  to  love  God  truly — to 
carry  His  word  in  our  hearts,  and  yet  not  to  feel  drawn  towards 
Him,  was  an  utter  impossibility.  Such  is  the  doctrine  plainly 
taught  us  by  one  whom  we  reverence  as  the  archetype  of  all 
humility.  Besides,  these  assertions  stand  not  isolated.  The  same 
truth  rings  out  in  other  statements  :  "If  God  were  your  Father, 
ye  would  love  me  ;  for  I  proceeded  forth  and  came  from  God." 
Ye  neither  know  me  nor  my  Father.  "  If  ye  had  known  me,  yo 
should  have  known  my  Father  also."  And  had  there  not  been 
in  Christ  this  perfect  interpenetration  of  the  divine  and  the  human 
— had  He  not  been  the  manifestation  of  God  in  the  flesh — how 
could  He  reconcile  with  His  humility  the  fact,  that  He  exacted 
this  degree  of  love  :  "  Whosoever  loveth  father  or  mother  more 
than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me  ?"  W^hat  mortal  has  ever  asked 
to  be  so  loved  ?  Accordingly  then,  supported  not  only  by  the 
word  of  a  Simeon,  but  also  by  Christ's  own  words,  I  dare  affirm, 
with  the  fullest  emphasis,  that  the  degree  in  which  the  manifes- 
tation of  Christ  prevails  over,  attracts,  and  appropriates  a  man, 
measures  precisely  the  degree  of  his  love  to  God. 

But  perhaps  a  distinction  will  be  insisted  upon  here,  on  the 
ground  that  we  have  Jesus  no  more  before  our  eyes.  But  let  me 
ask,  is  not  the  declaration,  '*  We  have  seen  his  glory,"  ever  new 
and  fresh  upon  earth  ?  Has  it  ceased  to  be  uttered  ever  since 
the  last  eye-witness  of  Jesus  was  laid  in  his  grave  ?  It  might 
be  so  if  it  was  with  our  bodily  eyes  alone,  that  we  were  to  behold 
His  glory.  But  with  such  eyes  Caiaphas  also  beheld  him.  And 
Christ  has  affirmed  :  "  They  have  eyes  and  see  not."  Only  with  the 
eyes  of  the  spirit  can  we  behold  Christ's  glory  ;  and  with  these 
eyes  of  the  sj>irit  we  can  behold  it  still.     And  that  we  are  able 


THE   TOUCHSTONE   OF   HUMAN   HEAETS.  321 

to  see  it  now  the  same  as  ever — is  not  this  the  proof  of  what 
we  call  the  inspiration  of  Ilis  evangelists  ?  If  the  record  of  the 
evangelists  concerning  Christ,  impresses  believers  afresh  in  each 
successive  age,  with  the  same  original  power,  as  did  the  very 
things  wiiich  they  formerly,  with  their  own  senses,  saw  and 
heard  ;  and  if  he  who  reads  Christ's  words  now  exclaims,  pre- 
cisely as  did  those  who  first  heard  them  :  "  Never  man  spake 
like  this  man  ;"  do  ye  ask  any  further  proof  of  the  fact,  that  in 
spite  of  all  human  weaknesses,  God's  hand  was  nevertheless  guid- 
ing the  pen  of  those  who  have  written  to  us  of  Christ  ?  If, 
then,  the  majestic  form  of  Christ  yet  abides  upon  earth,  it  is 
here  in  the  record,  and  remains  here  as  a  touchstone,  by  which 
the  hearts  of  men  may  be  revealed  for  all  time  to  come. 

But,  in  still  another  sense  is  he  also  present  ;  for  he  has  said 
that  he  would  yet  come  again,  in  order  to  take  up  his  abode 
with  us.  Are  not  believers  his  temples,  his  body,  his  members  ? 
Is  Christ  not  perpetually  present  in  all  those  who  are  born  of  his 
Spirit  ?  That  we  are  weak  members,  this  we,  indeed,  confess  ; 
but,  yet,  he  who  is  of  Christ,  must  be  regarded  as  led  by  Christ's 
Spirit.  He  cannot  but  have  in  himself  something  of  Christ's 
ways  and  character.  And  this  is  why  I  say  again,  Christ  re- 
sides in  his  followers  also,  as  a  touchstone  of  human  hearts.  He 
who  has  true  love  for  Christ,  can  never  hate  his  disciples.  He 
who  has  no  heart  for  his  disciples,  can  never  love  Christ.  "  If 
they  have  persecuted  me,  they  will  also  persecute  you  ;  if  they 
have  kept  my  sayings,  they  will  keep  yours  also."  Thus  spake 
the  Saviour,  and  in  this  way  did  he  inseparably  bind  together 
his  own  lot  and  that  of  his  disciples.  Weaknesses,  individual 
mistakes,  errors,  we  dare  not  disavow,  for  who  of  us  has  them 
not  ?  May  a  man,  then,  hate  his  own  flesh  and  blood  ?  But  he 
who  is  of  Christ  is  my  flesh  and  blood  ;  yea,  more,  he  is  one 
spirit  with  me.  Indeed,  we  go  yet  farther.  All  the  religious 
life  and  striving  of  humanity  is  only  a  striving  towards  Christ  ; 
for,  let  me  ask,  is  not  Christ  the  crowning  point  of  all  religion — 
the  end  and  aim  of  humanity,  so  far  as  it  is  religiously  stirred 

14* 


322  FREDERIC   A.    G.    THOLTTCK. 

and  longs  after  God  ?  He  has  himself  intimated  that,  in  every 
man  who  discovers  and  lays  hold  upon  him,  there  must  already 
exist  something  akin  to  himself :  "  He  who  is  of  God,"  he  says, 
"  heareth  my  voice."  The  man,  therefore,  who  strives  after 
God,  by  however  circuitous  and  devious  a  j^ath,  he  is  an  object 
of  my  love  ;  and  in  all  phases  of  humanity,  the  extent  to  which 
any  person  attracts  me  is  determined  by  the  earnestness  with 
which  he  seeks  after  God,  or  the  devotion  with  which  he  clings 
to  him  in  Christ.  All  other  motives  for  love  are  subordinate 
to  this. 

And,  now,  how  is  it  with  us  in  this  regard  ?     How  does  it 
stand  in  respect  to  our  love  for  Christ,  and  for  all  his  members, 
be  they  ever  so  weak  ;  yea,  for  all  those  who,  though  in  the 
most  imperfect  manner,  are  still  making  religion  the  central  ob- 
ject of  all  their  endeavors  ?     Have  we  all  attained  to  such  a 
personal  relationship  to  the  glorified  Son  of  God,  that  we  are 
able  to  say,  "  Christ  is  the  highest  object  of  my  affection  !     I 
love  him  as  he  demands  to  be  loved  I     I  love  him  more  than 
father  and  mother  !"    Are  those  who  cleave  to  Christ  with  the 
greatest  devotion,  however  w^anting  they  may  be  in  other  worthy 
human  gifts  and  talents,  still  the  dearest  to  you  among  men — the 
persons  to  whom  you  feel,  most  of  all,  closely  attached  ?     We 
will  not  here  ask  after  your  confession  of  faith.     We  will  accept 
your  love  as  sufficient.     For  he  who  can  respond  affirmatively  to 
the  question,  "  Lovest  thou  Christ  better  than  father  and  moth- , 
er  ?"  need  not  avow  his  creed.     He  to  whom  Christ  is  of  more 
worth  than  any  other  child  of  Adam,  such  as  the  rest  of  us  are, 
is,  on  this  ground,  truly  a  Christian.    But,  oh,  how  are  the  hearts 
of  the  children  of  this  age  laid  bare,  as,  on  the  one  hand,  may  be 
seen  those  to  whom  adhesion  to  some  one  little  article  of  their 
own  favorite  creed  is  of  more  w^eight  than  the  undoubted  mani- 
festations of  a  Christ-loving  heart !  and,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
are  thousands  upon  thousands  who  arc  ever  ready  to  make  a 
great  ado  when  a  person  goes  too  far — as  they  term  it — in  re- 
ligion ;  but  who  have  not  one  w^ord  of  complaint  or  dissent  in 


THE   TOUCHSTONE   OF   HTIMAN   HEARTS.  323 

respect  to  the  multitudes  who  do  not  go  far  enough  !  What  a 
touchstone  of  the  human  heart  have  we  here  I  IIow  imperatively 
does  the  age  demand  that  all  who  have  only  a  love  for  Christ — 
that  all  who  are  truly  in  earnest  about  religion,  should  hold  fast 
to  each  other.  If  ever  the  saying,  "  He  that  is  not  for  us  is 
against  us,"  be  applicable,  it  is  applicable  now — now,  when  Prot- 
estant Christendom  is  beginning  to  part  into  two  camps — when 
the  contest  is  no  longer  about  particular  articles  of  faith — but 
the  mooted  question  is,  whether  the  State  shall  have  a  church, 
Christendom  a  Saviour,  and  humanity  a  God  in  heaven.  Now, 
verily,  is  Christ  the  banner,  and  all  who  can  kneel  in  faith  before 
his  cross  should  join  hands.  Now,  once  more,  Christ  is  in  every 
respect  the  sign  everywhere  spoken  against,  and  through  which 
the  thoughts  of  many  hearts  are  revealed. 

When  Simeon  spoke  these  words,  he  had  in  view  the  last  mo- 
ments of  our  Saviour's  conflict  with  the  w^orld,  and  in  reference 
to  this  scene,  we  have  yet  to  consider  how  Christ  was  a  touchsto7ie 
of  the  human  heart,  through  which  what  Avas  in  man  became  first 
revealed. 

Never,  at  any  period,  have  the  contents  of  the  human  heart 
been  so  brought  out  by  action  and  endurance,  as  they  were  in 
the  conduct  of  men  towards  him  who  dared  to  affirm  that,  those 
who  saw  Him  saw  the  Father  also,  in  their  conduct  towards  the 
Son  of  God  himself,  in  his  deepest  sufferings. 

The  essential  character  was  there  exhibited,  both  as  regards 
his  foes  and  his  friends.  What  may  be  in  man's  heart  was  al- 
ready indicated  in  the  fact,  that  a  being  like  Jesus  could  have 
enemies  at  all — and  suek  enemies  !  Direct  your  glance  with  me 
a  moment  to  this  point.  Humanity  has  passed  through  many 
scenes,  which  are  sufficient  to  undeceive  any  person,  who  will 
know  nothing  of  human  nature  but  its  original  goodness  and  ex- 
cellence. Let  me  refer  you  to  one  of  these.  Scarcely  fifty  years 
have  passed  since  there  was  heard  in  Europe,  among  a  cultivated 
and  Christian  people,  the  cry — and  whose  blood  does  not  curdle 
in  his  veins,  even  now,  at  the  remembrance  of  it  ? — "  It  will  never 


324:  FEEDEEIC    A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

go  well  with  mankind,  until  the  last  king  is  throttled  with  the 
intestines  of  the  last  priest  !"  As  we  have  just  said,  whose  blood 
does  not  curdle  in  his  veins  at  hearing  such  a  hell-cry  ?  And  yet, 
this  is  not  so  horrible  as  that  which  happened  in  regard  to 
Christ.  When  men  suffer  innocently — even  the  best  of  mefi — we 
yet  do  not  forget  that  they  are,  after  all,  sinners  ;  although  a 
very  small  portion  of  their  own  guilt,  be  it  no  more  than  a  simple 
hick  of  wisdom,  may  have  been  proven  in  the  sufferings  of  the 
innocent  victims.  So,  too,  how  often  does  the  burden  of  the 
curse  which  remote  ancestors  had  provoked,  first  fall  with  crush- 
ing weight  upon  their  descendants.  And,  however  we  may 
shudder  at  the  monstrous  cruelties  of  the  French  Revolution,  let 
me  ask,  were  not  the  crying  sins  of  whole  generations  of  bygone 
kiugs  and  priests  expiated  in  that  blood-bath  ?  Yet,  it  must  be 
added,  sins  from  which,  indeed,  the  descendants  themselves  were 
by  no  means  altogether  exempt.  See,  now,  wherein  lies  the  dif- 
ference between  the  impression  made  by  the  sacrifice  of  Christ, 
and  that  made  by  all  the  scafi'olds  upon  which  innocent  humanity 
has  bled.  Here  stands  one,  of  whom  it  may  be  affirmed,  without 
fear  of  contradiction,  "  He  had  done  no  sin,  neither  was  any 
guile  found  in  his  mouth."  That  Being  who  said,  "He  that 
seeth  me,  seeth  the  unseen  Father,"  him  have  men  put  to  death 
on  the  cross  as  a  malefactor  ! 

Here,  then,  is  the  human  heart  first  truly  laid  open,  even  unto 
the  inmost  depths  of  that  corruption  which  festered  in  it.  If 
human  nature  could  do  this,  what  is  it  not  capable  of  perpetrat- 
ing ?  But  this  same  nature,  which  was  in  the  breast  of  Caiaphas, 
Judas,  and  Pilate,  is  in  mine  also. 

I  go  yet  further.  What  is  in  the  human  heart  is  revealed  to 
us  also  amid  the  circle  of  Jesus's  friends.  What  an  image  of 
weakness  and  infirmity,  even  after  the  sincerest  and  most  ardent 
protestation,  is  presented  to  us  in  the  case  of  Peter  !  In  respect 
to  that  being  of  whom  Peter  had  testified  :  "  Whither  shall  we 
go  ?  thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life  ;  thou  art  the  son  of  the 
living  God  ;"  even  in  respect  to  Him^  could  this  same  Peter  de- 


THE  TOUCHSTONE  OF  HUMAN  HEAETS.        325 

clare  in  the  hour  of  danger,  "  I  know  liim  not  I"  But  it  was  not 
Petcr^s  nature  alone  that  was  here  disclosed  by  the  touchstone. 
The  very  trials  which  dwelt  in  the  breast  of  Peter  the  fallen, 
dwell  also  in  my  breast.  Besides,  Peter  stands,  not  alone  by  the 
cross,  as  the  only  type  of  our  common  infirmity.  Do  you  not 
there  see  the  rest  of  the  disciples,  how  they  all  crowd  timidly 
together  at  an  equal  remove  from  their  Lord  ?  Not  one  of  them 
has  the  courage  to  speak  a  bold  word  in  behalf  of  the  man  of 
their  heart,  who  hangs  near  on  the  accursed  tree.  If  in  the 
critical  hour  of  trial  Peter  denies  his  Master,  so  do  the  rest  all 
betray  fear  in  like  manner. 

It  is  not  necessary,  however,  that  I  should  dwell  only  on 
the  melancholy  disclosures  of  the  human  heart  called  forth  by  the 
suffering  Saviour.  He  w\is  a  touchstone  to  reveal  to  us,  not 
only  to  what  a  degree  the  human  heart  was  capable  of  obduracy, 
and  shallowness,  and  inconstancy,  but  he  also  shows  us  how  this 
same  human  heart  may  be  rendered  teachable  and  tractable  un- 
der the  influences  of  divine  grace.  For  in  spite  of  all  the  dis- 
ciples' weakness,  it  was  still  plain  that  their  faith  had  a  firm 
foundation  on  which  it  fastened.  What  lay  on  the  other  side 
of  the  cross  was  at  this  time  hardly  even  surmised  by  them. 
When  Christ  was  borne  to  the  grave,  then  was  their  hope  borne 
to  the  grave  also  ;  but,  oh,  blessed  experience,  their  faith  was 
not  borne  thither  with  it.  See  how  wonderfully  this  fact  is  indi- 
cated in  the  instance  of  Nicodemus.  He  who  ventured  to  ap- 
proach a  living  Christ  only  by  night,  now  that  he  is  dead,  hesi- 
tates not,  as  we  see,  openly  to  bury  him  by  day  ;  and,  when  aU 
hope  is  over,  he  confesses  him  publicly  before  the  world.  And 
then,  when  the  grave  has  opened — when  the  cross,  this  star  with 
shorn  rays,  touched  with  the  beams  of  the  Easter  morning  sun, 
once  more  is  clothed  with  radiance,  how  does  the  hope  that  was 
buried  with  their  Jesus,  rise  together  with  him  I  How  does  the 
little  spark  of  faith,  almost  smothered  by  the  burden  of  the 
cross,  shoot  up  again  heavenward  in  a  flame  that  was  never  more 
to  subside.     In  view  of  these  things,  may  we  not  affirm  that  if 


326  FREDERIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

one  great  drama  of  humanity  was  enacting  upon  the  cross,  there 
was  still  another  at  the  same  time  acted  out  heneath  it,  of  hardly 
less  significance  !  Thus  it  happened  that  over  against  the  noblest 
manifestation  of  human  nature,  as  well  as  in  it,  and  through  it, 
there  is  made  known  to  us  what  is  in  man. 

If  it  has  been  shown  that  the  manifestation  of  Christ  was  a 
touchstone  of  the  hearts  of  men,  oh,  how  should  our  love  to- 
wards him,  and  also  towards  his  true  believers,  kindle  with  fresh 
earnestness  !  for  it  is  according  to  the  measure  of  our  affection 
for  Him,  that  we  shall  be  judged  in  the  end.  Oh,  thou  blessed 
Saviour,  thou  hast  demanded  that  we  love  thee  better  than 
father  and  mother.  Thou  wouldst  not  have  demanded  this  of  us, 
had  not  thy  glory,  thy  grace,  and  thy  truth  been  indeed  deserv- 
ing of  such  affection.  Eeveal  thyself  to  us,  then,  oh,  thou  wor- 
shipful Eedeemer  !  Eeveal  thyself  to  us  in  thine  incomparable 
glory  and  beauty,  in  order  that  we  may  be  strengthened  to  love 
thee  wdth  that  all-excluding  love  which  thou  requirest  I  And 
fill  us  anew  also  w4th  love  towards  thy  members  on  the  earth  ! 
Yea,  may  all  w^ho  in  this  world  but  confess  thy  name,  and  are 
subject  to  thee  in  love  and  sincere  devotion,  be  also  sacred  to 
our  hearts  ;  for  thou.  Lord,  art  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father, 
full  of  grace  and  truth  !     Amen. 


DISCOURSE    XVIII. 


THE  FATHER  DRAWING  MEN  TO  THE  SON. 

My  devout  brethren,  must  it  not  strike  us  very  painfully,  to 
hear  the  words  "  My  Saviour,"  "  My  Redeemer,"  repeated  from 
so  many  thousand  lips,  and  yet,  if  we  ask  a  person,  face  to 
face,  "  How  knowest  thou  that  He  is  indeed  thy  Redeemer  V 
silence  is  the  only  answer  we  receive  ?  And,  strange  to  say,  the 
very  persons  whom  we  are  most  sure  to  find  in  this  state,  are  just 
the  ones  who  dispute  the  most  vehemently  about  Christ,  and  to 
whom  much  that  is  related  of  Him  in  the  Scripture,  and  beheved 
by  the  church,  is  utterly  unintelligible.  It  is  on  such  occasions 
that  the  word  of  the  Lord  comes  to  remembrance,  which  He 
'spake  when  He  once  heard  people  of  this  sort  disputing  about 
Him  in  the  temple  ;  a  weighty  word  in  a  time  like  this,  when 
religious  truths  are  so  much  controverted  and  so  little  under- 
stood, so  much  contended  for  and  written  upon  and  so  little 
experienced. 

The  saying  of  the  Lord,  which  I  refer  to,  we  read  in  St.  John 
(vi.  43-45)  : 

"  Jesus,  therefore,  answered,  and  said  unto  them,  Murmur  not 
among  yourselves.  No  man  can  come  to  me,  except  the  Father 
which  hath  sent  me  draw  him  :  and  I  will  raise  him  up  at  the 
last  day.     It  is  written  in  the  prophets.  And  they  shall  be  all 

827  ' 


328  FEEDERIC   A.    G.    THOI.UCK. 

taught  of  God.      Every  man,  therefore,  that  hath  heard,  and 
hath  learned  of  the  Father,  cometh  unto  me." 

In  entering  upon  the  consideration  of  this  text  with  you,  well 
might  I  exclaim  :  "  Put  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet,  for  the 
place  whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground."  What  deep  mys- 
tery of  mercy  is  that  into  which  we  are  led  ;  that  He  who  hath 
created  us,  purposes  by  the  powerful  yet  tender  drawing  of  His 
Spirit,  to  lead  us  to  His  Son.  That  the  coming  to  Christ  here 
spoken  of,  is  not  simply  an  outward  coming,  is  clear.  All  those 
to  whom  Jesus  addressed  these  words  had  already  approached 
Him  on  their  feet  ;  but  He  spake  of  their  coming  to  him  with 
their  hearts.  In  another  expression  of  His,  He  implies  that  no 
man  cometh  unto  Him  who  does  not  hunger  and  thirst :  viz., 
where  He  says,  "  I  am  the  bread  of  life  :  he  that  cometh  to 
me  shall  never  hunger  ;  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall  never 
thirst." — (John  vi.  35.)  The  coming,  therefore,  of  which  He 
speaks,  is  that  in  which  a  man  begins  to  taste  and  enjoy  Him  as 
a  Redeemer.  In  this  manner  it  is,  He  says,  that  "  No  man  can 
come  unto  Him,  whom  the  Father  has  not  drawn  ;"  that  is,  as 
the  subsequent  words  explain  it,  who  has  not  been  taught  by  the 
Father,  who  has  not  heard  and  learned  of  the  Father.  This 
drawing  of  the  Father  to  the  Son,  we  will  now  proceed  to  exam- 
ine more  closely,  in  the  light  of  truth. 

I.  It  is  in  appearance  a  gracious  gift  for  a  chosen  few,  and,  yet, 
in  truth,  it  is  as  wide  and  universal  as  the  atmosphere. 

II.  It  goes  through  nature  and  human  fortune  ;  it  goes  through 
the  human  spirit,  and  human  heart. 

III.  The  Father  draws,  only  we  do  not  follow.  The  Father 
teaches,  only  we  do  not  learn. 

I.  It  is,  in  appearance,  a  gift  of  grace  for  a  chosen  few,  and 
yet,  in  truth,  it  is  as  wide  and  universal  as  the  atmosphere. 
How  like  a  holy  mystery  does  that  expression  steal  over  the 


THE  FATHER  DEAWESTG   IMEN   TO   THE   SON.  329 

soul — Tht  drawing  of  the  Father  to  the  Son.  Who  does  not  feel, 
that  in  these  words  there  are  contained  unsearchable  depths  ? 
We  understand  not  the  mystery,  only  we  encounter  it  ;  and 
the  deeper,  I  may  say  the  more  inwardly  we  push  matters 
home,  the  greater  is  the  impression  made  on  us  of  there  being 
here  a  gift  of  grace,  which  others  have  not,  solely  because  the 
Father  has  not  drawn  them;  because,  as  we  well  express  it,  they 
are  not  constitutionally  qualified  for  such  experiences. 

When  we  see  the  indifference  of  all  other  men  towards  the 
mystery  of  godhness  ;  when  we  see  how  happy  and  how  satisfied 
they  are  to  live  in  the  world  without  the  Father  and  without 
the  Son  ;  they  appear  to  us  as  men  of  a  different  order  ;  and  it 
seems  to  us  incredible  that  the  reason  why  they  know  nothing 
of  the  mystery  of  godliness,  is  simply  because  they  choose  not 
to  know  it — incredible  that  the  cause  why  so  many  know  not  the 
drawing  of  the  Father,  is  simply  this,  that  they  would  not  suffer 
themselves  to  be  drawn.  As  it  is  certain  that  every  one 
who  comes  to  the  Son,  has  also  been  drawn  by  the  Father,  it 
follows  with  equal  certainty,  that  he  who  does  not  come  to  Him, 
comes  not  because  the  Father  has  not  drawn  him.  Is  not  this  the 
unmistakable  meaning  of  this  declaration  of  our  Lord  ?  When 
Jesus  said  to  them  :  "  Murmur  not  among  yourselves,  no  ma,n 
can  come  to  me,  except  the  Father  which  hath  sent  me  draw 
him,"  does  He  not  manifestly  make  a  difference  between  those 
whom  the  Father  draws,  and  those  whom  He  docs  not  draw  ? 
Does  it  not  sound  as  if  He  meant  to  say  :  "  Good  people,  what 
signifies  your  laboring  and  disputing  ?  If  God  has  once  shut 
the  narrow  gate,  you  Avill  surely  never  open  it  ?"  Thus  it 
appears  ;  and  yet  had  it  been  so  intended,  would  there  not  seem 
to  lurk  in  these  words  a  cold,  unfeeling  scorn  ?  and  who  can 
tolerate  the  idea  of  scorn  from  the  mouth  of  Christ  ?  Who  can 
refrain  from  asking  :  "  Had  it  been  so  meant,  why,  then,  is  it 
written,  '  and  He  upbraided  their  unleliefV  "  Wliy,  then,  did  He 
again  and  again  enter  the  company  of  those  who  were  unable  to 
open  the  narrow  door,  which  the  Father  had  closed  ?     You 


330  FREDERIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

perceive  that  this  word  of  our  Lord  is  a  perplexing  one  ;  but 
has  He  not  himself  given  us  the  key  to  the  meaning?  If 
the  drawing  of  the  Father  is  nothing  else  than  precept  and 
instruction,  and  if  it  is  written  :  '^  He  that  hath  heard,  and  hath 
learned  of  the  Father  cometh  unto  mg,"  is  it  not  manifest,  that 
there  may  be  a  teaching  of  the  Father,  where  the  man  does 
not  learn  ;  and  a  drawing,  where  the  man  does  not  permit  him- 
self to  be  drawn  ?  And  if  it  is  so^  can  we  still  doubt  that  those 
words,  "  exce;pt  the  Father  draw  him^^  were  by  no  means  intended 
to  imply  a  difference  between  some  whom  He  draws,  and  others 
whom  He  does  not  draw  ?  When  He  saith  :  "  Every  man,  there- 
fore, that  hath  heard  and  learned  of  the  Father  cometh  unto  we," 
does  He  not  thereby  give  us  to  know  that  the  Father  is  always 
teaching,  but  men  will  not  learn  ;  that  the  Father  is  always 
drawing,  but  men  will  not  suffer  themselves  to  be  drawn  ? 

No  ;  though  it  may  produce  salutary  alarm,  to  preach  that 
doctrine  of  the  Reformed  Church  which  still  many  millions  pro- 
fess— the  doctrine  of  an  absolute  predestination,  according  to 
which  the  one  half  of  the  sinful  world  is  drawn  by  the  free 
mercy  of  the  Father,  to  the  Son,  by  which  they  are  made  to 
reflect  His  undeserved  mercy  ;  whilst  the  other  half,  through 
just  anger  against  sin,  being  left  to  their  fate,  become  a  mirror 
of  that  which  all  sin  hath,  in  truth,  deserved  ;  though  I  say 
there  may  be,  also,  a  certain  unspeakable  power  in  the  preach- 
ing of  this  entirely  unconditioned  Omnipotence  in  God,  which, 
by  an  absolute  decree,  snatches  the  elect,  and  saves  them  from 
out  of  the  mass  of  those  who  are  lost — yet,  too  strongly  and  too 
undeniably  does  the  divine  word  make  known  to  us  a  God,  who  is 
the  Saviour  of  all  men,  and  a  redemption,  whose  light  spreads 
itself  not  a  step  less  widely  than  tlie  dark  shadow  of  sin  which 
covers  all  mankind  ;  for  it  affirms  that  human  nature,  from  all 
eternity,  has  been  laid  upon  Christ  ;  yea,  tliat  the  creation  of  the 
world  itself  rests  upon  Him.  If  God  (as  the  apostle  Paul  says) 
has  "  chosen  us  in  Christ,"  before  the  foundation  of  the  world, 
and  consequently  before  Paradise  and  the  Fall,  then  must  Christ 


THE  FATHER  DRAWING  MEN  TO  THE  SON.      331 

be  the  fundamental  idea,  the  turning  point  around  which  the 
whole  development  of  the  human  race  revolves  ;  then,  to  His 
account  must  everything  be  reckoned  ;  then  must  the  drawing 
of  the  Father  to  the  Son  be  extended  as  far  as  the  human 
race  goes  ;  then  must  it  be  as  wide  and  universal  as  the  air 
itself. 

II.  And  ii  is  thus  universal,  for  it  goes  through  all  nature,  and 
all  human  fortune — it  goes  through  the  human  spirit  and  the  hu- 
man heart.  Oh  that  I  could  rightly  waken  in  you  the  convic- 
tion, that  He  whom  you  call  your  Father  in  heaven,  is  actually 
so  near  to  his  people,  that  He  can  draw  them  with  his  hand — 
that  He  can  speak  to  them  with  his  mouth  !  Oh  that  you  could 
believe  that  his  heaven  is  not  closed,  that  his  throne  stands  not 
merely  beyond  the  clouds — his  Spirit  is  nearer  to  you  than  you 
are  to  yourselves  !  I  will  not  now  speak  to  you  of  those  mysteri- 
ous drawings  in  the  depths  of  the  heart — of  those  drawings  which 
you  carry  about  with  you,  and  which  preach  to  you  from  within, 
"  Be  ye  reconciled  unto  GodP  Let  me  first  sj^eak  to  you  of  that 
drawing  of  the  Father  which  pervades  nature  and  all  human 
fortune. 

Indeed,  in  respect  to  nature,  it  might,  perhaps,  appear,  if  we 
listen  to  what  she  boasts  respecting  her  entertainments,  that,  in- 
stead of  pointing  to  a  Redeemer,  she  rather  tended  to  render 
Him  unnecessary.  Is  it  not  nature  that  so  enthralls  man  with 
her  quiet  charms,  that  when,  with  heart  agitated  by  storm  and 
trouble,  she  persuades  him  to  cast  himself  upon  her  full  breast, 
and  there  find  the  atonement  ?  But  if  we  inquire  more  deeply 
into  that  which  they  call  the  atoning  power  of  nature,  am  I  mis- 
taken if  I  consider  the  discourse  which  she  holds  with  us  rather 
as  a  preaching  of  repentance  than  as  a  gospel  of  reconciliation  ? 

For  those  who  seldom  emerge  from  the  din  of  business,  there 
is,  indeed,  an  appearance  of  repose  in  those  hours  wlien  they 
step  forth  alone  into  the  temple  of  nature.  It  is  true,  this  vast 
nature  of  ours  is  itself,  also,  one  wide  workshop  ;  but  then  how 


;-^32  FREDERIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

quietly,  with  what  unchangeable  regularity,  does  her  work  pro- 
ceed I  This  we  cannot  but  feel,  and  are  so  thrown  back  upon 
ourselves,  and  the  first  impression  therefrom  is  beneficial.  But,  is 
it  not,  also,  a  humiliating  and  chastening  impression  which  arises 
as  soon  as  we  begin  to  recollect  ourselves,  and  begin  to  ask,  Why 
is  it  not  then  in  vie  also  equally  peaceful  ?  Why  does  there  not 
prevail  in  me  also  this  quiet  regularity  of  nature  ?  Especially  does 
this  inquiry  force  itself  on  us,  if  we  are  constrained  at  the  same 
time  to  own  that  we  are  spirits,  created  in  the  image  of  God, 
and  ought,  therefore,  voluntarily  to  obey  the  eternal  laws  of  our 
Creator,  even  as  nature  obeys  them,  from  an  eternal  necessity. 
These  are  thoughts,  I  say,  which  must  occur  to  every  person 
when  he  comes  to  sober  reflection.  But,  alas,  man  hastens  out 
thoughtless,  and  thoughtless  he  returns  home  ;  and  persuades 
himself  that  he  has  won  inward  peace,  when  it  scarcely  lasts  him 
a  single  hour  ;  and  he  perceives  not  that  for  the  human  spirit 
the  enjoyment  of  nature  does  not  supersede  the  necessity  of 
atonement  with  God,  but  only  causes  this  necessity  to  be  all  the 
more  felt.  For,  that  something  is  wanting  to  us,  we  all  feel ;  but 
deeper  and  more  earnest  meditation  is  demanded,  in  order  to 
perceive  what  that  defect  is,  and  to  learn  from  nature  the  meaning 
of  what  the  royal  preacher  afiirmed,  that  ^'that  sin,  and  sin  alone, 
is  the  reproach  of  any  people" — Prov.  xiv.  34. 

Still  more  plainly  does  this  preaching,  and  with  it  the  drawing 
of  the  Father  to  the  Son,  go  through  all  history  and  human 
fortune.  Is  not  the  history  of  the  human  race,  as  a  whole,  and 
the  history  of  every  household,  and  the  lot  of  each  individual 
life  of  man,  a  drawing  of  the  Father  to  the  Son,  w^hich  preaches 
to  us  that  we  need  a  Redeemer  ?  When  the  prophet  inquires, 
"  Wherefore  doth  a  living  man  complain — a  man  for  the  punish- 
ment of  his  sins?" — (Sam.  iii.  39)  would  it  be  too  much  to  infer 
that  all  and  every  misfortune  would  be  done  away  from  the  life 
of  man,  could  we  but  get  rid  of  sin  ?  Can  we  be  mistaken  here  ? 
No,  surely  not.  With  all  the  frailty  and  danger  accompanying 
a  man's  earthly  life  ;  in  spite  of  pestilence  and  earthquake  ;  in 


THE  FATHER  DRAWING  MEN  TO  THE  SON.      333 

spite  of  disease  and  death  ;  take  sin  away,  and  the  earth  would 
become  at  once  a  Paradise  I  Gather  up  in  one  all  the  tears 
which  have  been  shed  upon  earth,  since  the  time  when  the  Cher- 
ubim, with  the  flaming  sword,  placed  themselves  before  the 
Paradise  of  Innocence,  and  sav,  have  not  by  far  the  greater  part 
been  tears  over  sin,  and  its  consequences  ?  Take  also  those 
wounds  which  have  not  been  inflicted  by  the  sins  of  man,  but 
through  the  frailty  of  our  earthly  nature,  or  through  the  elements 
warring  against  man,  and  destroying  the  creations  of  his  indus- 
try ;  yea,  take  all  that  has  been  inflicted  by  those  two  angels  of 
wrath  that  we  fear  the  most,  disease  and  death,  and,  oh,  how 
much  more  easily  would  these  be  also  endured,  were  sin  only 
taken  out  of  the  world  !  Imagine  only  how  much  lighter  would 
be  the  burden,  if  men  loved  each  other  as  they  ought ;  if  no 
mourner  had  to  shed  tears  for  himself  alone,  and  all  mankind 
were  of  one  heart.     And  ought  it  not  be  so  ? 

But  this  is  not  all.  How  great  a  share  has  sin  also  in  those 
evils  which  appear  to  us  to  be  quite  out  of  our  own  power — 
disease  and  death  I  Do  not  the  traditions  of  many  nations  ring 
of  a  time  when  man  lived  a  simple  and  natural  life  •  and  the 
poison  of  disease,  was  almost  unknown  ;  and  the  destroying  an- 
gel of  death,  who  now  breaks  off  the  buds  in  the  morning,  and 
tears  off  the  bloom  at  noon,  came  only  as  the  reaper,  that  mowed 
down  the  well-ripened  fruit  at  latest  evening,  in  order  to  store  it 
in  the  garner  ?  It  is  written, ''  Death  came  into  the  world  hy  sin  •'^ 
and,  looking  away  from  that  which  happened  at  the  beginning 
of  our  race,  how  great  a  share  has  sin,  even  now,  in  the  hasten- 
ing of  death  !  How  does  it  gnaw  at  the  life  of  man,  in  order  to 
make  it  still  shorter  than  it  would  otherwise  be  in  our  decrepit 
system  !  Truly,  there  goes  through  all  human  fortune  a  voice 
preaching  to  us  that  sin  is  the  destruction  of  man  ;  and  this  voice 
— this  is  a  drawing,  which  from  the  Father  leads  to  the  Son, 

Yet,  in  vain  goes  this  drawing  through  everything  external  to 
man,  through  nature,  and  human  fortune,  so  long  as  it  does  not 
draw  and  constrain  us  here — within.    But  lightly  as  the  sunbeam, 


334  FREDERIC    A.    G.    THOLIJCK. 

and  like  it,  shining  and  warming,  goes  also  the  drawing  of  the 
Father  to  the  Son,  through  the  human  spirit  and  the  human 
heart.  Ye,  whose  calling  is  science,  to  whichever  of  its  faculties 
you  may  belong,  ye  cannot  study  profoundly  without  perceiving 
how  all  reflection  upon  human  things  irresistibly  constrains  and 
drives  the  sj^irit,  till  it  at  last  arrives  at  the  great  centre  of  all 
things — even  God — and  how  the  thinking  mind  can  repose  in  no 
other  God  than  Him  whose  hidden  glory  is  revealed  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

Ye,  who  search  out  the  necessary  laws  of  thought,  ye  must,  above 
all  others,  have  felt,  how  the  key-stone  to  all  worldly  wisdom  is 
wanting,  so  long  as  it  has  not  found  its  final  aim  in  God,  in  that 
Spirit  at  which  the  light  of  our  thoughts  was  first  kindled.  And 
again,  ye  cannot  but  deeply  feel  that  the  mysterious  impress  of  God, 
which  lies  veiled  in  the  human  spirit,  was  never  revealed  to  human 
thought,  until  the  Word  of  God  became  flesh,  and  gave  us,  instead 
of  "  the  unknown  God"  the  name  of  God,  our  Father  in  Heaven. 

Ye,  who  have  been  directing  your  studies  to  the  fine  arts  and 
military  glory  of  a  perished  world — ye  must  have  discovered 
that  it  perished  from  the  fact,  that  it  did  not  as  yet  enjoy  the 
highest  revelation  of  the  Godhead  ;  and  these  objects,  constitut- 
ing as  they  do  the  noblest  efforts  of  that  age,  will  only  then 
become  intelligible  to  you,  when  they  are  viewed  as  a  striving 
after  that  Light  and  Life,  which  has  disclosed  itself  to  the  world 
in  the  Son  of  God. 

Ye,  who  have  applied  your  minds  to  those  institutions  by 
which  society  and  civil  right  are  maintained  among  men,  must 
have  perceived  how  all  political  communion  is  refined  and  en- 
nobled by  the  spirit  of  Christian  morality,  and  that  even  right 
itself,  finds  its  highest  fulfillment  in  love  ;  and  furthermore,  ye 
must  have  seen,  how  all  the  driviug  of  the  law-giver  with  the 
rod  of  Moses,  applied  from  without,  can  never  render  a  people 
truly  happy,  so  long  as  their  hearts  have  not  been  softened  under 
the  mild  shepherd's  rod  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  obey  the  law  with 
gladness  and  from  the  strong  impulse  of  holy  affection. 


THE   FATHER   DE AWING   MEN    TO   THE   SON.  335 

Ye,  who  search  through  the  heahng  powers  of  nature,  in  order 
to  build  up  and  preserve  the  holy  temple  of  the  Spirit,  the  body, 
ye  must  have  deeply  felt,  what  a  phantom  our  natural  life  is, 
when  the  quickening  breath  of  the  Eternal,  is  not  therein  per- 
ceptible ;  and  what  an  empty  corpse  the  body  is,  to  which  ye 
have  dedicated  your  life  and  labor,  when  it  is  not  the  temple  of 
an  immortal  inhabitant ;  and  how  the  frightful  death-mask  can 
only  be  changed  into  an  angelic  face,  by  being  viewed  in  the 
light  of  Him,  who  has  spoiled  Death  of  His  might. 

Thus  does  the  drawing  of  the  Father  to  the  Son  traverse  the 
spirit  of  man  so  universally,  that  one  might  almost  say,  it  is 
harder  for  a  reflecting  mind  to  avoid  the  God  who  is  revealed 
to  us  in  Christ,  than — io  find  Him.  And  all  sciences — what  are 
they  but  the  satellites  of  the  Eternal  Spiritual  Sun,  from  which 
they  receive  light,  in  various  degrees  proportionate  to  the  several 
distances  at  which  they  circle  round  Him.  To  him  who  hears 
the  instruction  of  God,  in  his  own  spirit,  they  all  are  but  sermons 
on  the  indispensableuess  of  that  redemption,  of  which  we  are 
made  partakers  in  Cheist  Jesus. 

And  what  shall  we  say  of  that  restless,  unsatisfied  heart  of 
man,  whose  yearnings  are  as  intense  as  its  conflicts  ?  We  trem- 
ble before  that  inner  judgment-voice  which  we  call  conscience, 
when  she  upbraids  us  with  our  misspent  days,  our  broken  vows, 
the  sins  of  our  youth,  and  our  secret  transgressions  ;  and  now 
we  begin  to  understand  that  the  voice  of  conscience  was  only 
the  voice  of  the  Father,  aiming  to  lead  us  to  the  Son,  who  is 
the  sacrifice  for  our  sins  I  Formerly,  indeed,  we  ventured  now 
and  then  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  conscience,  with  only  half  an 
ear  ;  to  make  terms  with  it,  to  muffle  its  tones  ;  this  we  ven- 
tured to  do,  holding,  as  we  did,  conscience  to  be  only  the  voice 
of  our  own  heart.  Shall  we  venture  to  do  so  now,  after  we 
have  learnt  that  it  is  the  voice  of  the  Father,  desirous  of  lead- 
ing us  to  the  Son  ?  How  holy  does  the  voice  of  conscience 
become  in  the  light  of  that  saying,  "  No  one  can  come  to  the 
Son  except  the  Father  draw  him  !"     Is  there  now  any  one  here. 


336  FREDERIC   A.    G.    THOLUCK. 

with  a  bosom  full  of  accusations  which  will  uot  be  silent  ?  with 
a  branded  conscience,  whose  marks  cannot  be  effaced  ?  Is  there 
any  one  here,  who  needs  an  Advocate  ?  There  stands  the  Advo- 
cate, 0  man,  to  whom,  in  the  very  anguish  of  thy  conscience, 
the  drawing  of  the  Father  is  urging  thee  ! 

That  unsatisfied  longing,  which  has  been  gnawing  at  our  hearts 
day  and  night,  we  had  looked  upon  as  a  nervous  disorder,  a 
spasmodic  twitching  of  our  own  heart  :  and  have  sought  to  chase 
it  away,  as  one  would  scare  flies,  by  the  sounding  laugh  and 
merry  thoughts,  by  the  noise  of  company,  by  riot  and  revelling. 
And  now  we  learn,  it  was  the  voice  of  the  Father,  seeking  His 
child  I  "  Hear,  0  Heavens,  and  give  ear,  0  Earth,  the  ox 
knoweth  his  owner,  and  the  ass  his  master's  crib  ;  but  Israel 
doth  not  know,  my  people  doth  not  consider."  (Isaiah  i.  2.)  Is 
not  that  disquiet  of  heart  which  finds  no  rest,  except  in  God, 
is  it  not  as  a  great  mind  has  said,  "  the  remains  of  the  Image  of 
God,  in  the  heart  of  man  ?"  for  why  else  do  we  remain  uneasy, 
and  dissatisfied  with  all  aside  from  God,  if  it  be  not  that  we 
were  created  for  God  ?  When  at  last  the  heart  has  found  that 
peace  in  the  Son  of  God,  which  the  world  cannot  give,  then  how 
does  it  perceive  that  their  yearning  sighs  which  breathed  forth 
unchecked  so  long  as  Christ  was  not  enjoyed,  were  nothing  else 
than  the  holy  drawing  of  the  Father,  which  have  been  conduct- 
ing it  to  the  Son.  All  this  time  had  it  been  turning  hither  and 
thither,  ignorant  of  what  was  properly  wanting  ;  and  then  only 
did  it  come  to  understand  its  need,  when  it  was  proffered  to  it 
in  Christ.  And  on  finding  peace  in  Him,  how  plain  does  it 
become  to  us,  that  each  pulsation  of  the  beating  heart,  each 
convulsive  movement  of  the  disordered  conscience,  was  all  the 
drawing  whereby  the  Father  would  lead  us  to  the  Son. 

III.  Yea,  verily,  "  the  Father  draweth  us,  hut  we  will  not  foU 
low  ;  the  Father  tcachcth  us,  but  we  will  not  hear .'"  If  the  draw- 
ing of  the  Father  to  the  Son  is  actually  as  broad  and  free  as 
the  air  of  heaven — if  all  who  are  excluded  from  the  mystery  of 


THE  FATHER  DK AWING  MEN  TO  THE  SON.      337 

godliness  are  excluded  only  by  their  own  fault,  how  humiliating 
is  the  thought,  that  it  has  nevertheless  at  all  times  the-  appear- 
ance of  being  intended  peculiarly  as  a  gift  only  for  a  chosen  few  ! 
when,  in  truth,  the  election  of  God  is  commensurate  with  the  hu- 
man race  itself.  Oh  that  the  power  of  human  speech — oh  that 
the  might  of  God's  Spirit  might  assist  me  in  convincing  you  of 
the  truth  of  Christ's  declaration,  that  all  your  experience  from 
within  and  from  without,  is  pervaded  by  the  drawings  of  the 
Father's  love,  which  would  fain  lead  you  to  the  Son  :  for  you 
cannot  believe  this  assertion  unless  your  heart  prompts  it — un- 
less you  listen  thereto  attentively.  You  see  a  poor  child  in  the 
wood,  or  in  the  desert  ;  he  stands  perplexed,  then  runs,  now  right 
and  now  left  ;  his  eye  detects  not  the  path  which  leads  towards 
home  ;  and  though  behind  him,  and  above  him,  and  on  all  sides, 
a  father's  voice  is  calling  to  him,  yet  his  ear  liears  not.  Such 
is  man  in  the  midst  of  the  voices  of  God,  which  are  calling 
to  him  out  of  the  height  and  out  of  the  depth — from  within 
and  from  without.  Ye  children  of  a  Heavenly  Father  "  To- 
day, if  ye  will  hear  his  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts.'^ 
Should  you  step  forth  into  nature,  oh,  close  not  your  ear  on  the 
great  question  she  puts  to  you,  "  Oh,  man,  why  is  it  not  as  calm 
and  quiet  in  you  as  in  me  V^  For  as  you  wander  forth  in  those 
peaceful  scenes,  and  nature's  holy  stillness  turns  your  thoughts 
back  upon  yourself,  then,  in  contrast  with  her  sweet  harmony, 
how  deeply  conscious  do  you  become  of  your  own  inward  discord 
and  schisms  I  Or  suppose  it  is  the  history  of  mankind  which 
is  the  object  of  your  deep  reflection,  or  at  least  that  paragraph 
of  it  which  is  filled  up  with  your  own  biography,  what  a  sermon 
do  you  hear  preached  even  out  of  the  narrow  compass  of  your 
own  individual  experiences,  as  soon  as  you  begin  to  inquire  what 
your  life  might  have  been,  had  it  not  been  deranged  and  broken 
up  by  your  sins  and  the  sins  of  others  !  and  in  it  all  believe  that 
you  discover  the  drawings  of  the  Father,  by  which  he  has  been 
daily  endeavoring  to  iead  you  to  the  Son. 

Ye  votaries  of  knowledge,  even  your  studies  must  become  to 

15 


838  FREDERIC   A.    G.    TnOLTJCK. 

you  a  divine  worship.  Estimate  yourselves  fittingly.  You  are 
too  noble  to  devote  yourselves  to  intellectual  labors,  for  the 
sake  of  finite  objects,  for  office  and  for  honor,  vi^hen,  if  prose- 
cuted with  an  upward  glance  to  God,  they  would  in  all  points 
be  leading  to  Him.  Truly  you  have  not  yet  learned  the  holy 
significance  of  science,  so  long  as  it  appears  to  you  impossible  to 
pursue  it  as  a  divine  worship.  And  that  disquiet — that  unsatis- 
fied longing — that  oppressiveness  which  your  heart  feels,  let  it 
henceforth  appear  to  you  in  another  light  than  that  in  which  you 
have  hitherto  been  wont  to  regard  it ;  it  is  a  drawing  of  the  Father. 
And  if  you  consider  this  unstilled  yearning  of  soul  in  this  light, 
you  will  turn  for  relief  to  no  other  helper  than  that  all-sufficient 
One,  to  whom  the  Father  desires  to  draw  you.  We  have  the 
assurance  of  Christ  that  there  is  an  inward  voice  in  our  own 
hearts,  which  is  a  drawing  of  the  Father  ;  in  proportion  to  the 
blessedness  of  the  results  which  follow  upon  listening  to  it,  will 
be  the  greatness  of  our  responsibility,  if  we  remain  deaf  to  its 
solicitations. 

Verily,  0  my  God,  I  know  that  no  man  can  find  the 
way  unto  Thee  except  under  thy  guidance.  Take  then,  0 
most  merciful  Father,  thy  weak  and  erring  child  by  the  hand, 
and  I  will  follow,  whithersoever  Thou  leadest.  I  acknowledge 
it  as  a  boundless  mercy  of  Thine,  that  Thou  stoopest  from 
above  to  instruct  us  in  our  hearts  respecting  the  things  which 
belong  to  our  peace  ;  therefore,  I  tremble  greatly  lest  I  should 
not  hear  when  thou  speakest.  Nay,  I  will  attend,  and  be  ob- 
servant as  an  obedient  child,  whenever  Thou  raisest  Thy  voice 
to  me,  and  by  Thee  will  I  be  entirely  guided  ;  for  I  know 
that  wheresoever  Thou  dost  choose  to  lead  me,  there  it  is  good 
to  be. 


JULIUS    MULLER,  D.D. 


BIOGRAPHICAL  NOTICE. 

Julius  Muller,  a  brother  of  Karl  Ottfried  Muller  (the  celebrated 
and  now  deceased  Archaeologist),  was  born  at  Brieg  in  Silesia,  April 
10th,  1801;  in  which  place  his  father  was  a  preacher.  He  studied 
with  great  assiduity  at  the  Gymnasium  in  Brieg,  and  afterwards 
at  the  Universities  of  Breslau  and  Giittingen, — and  first  entered 
upon  the  study  of  Law,  which  he  abandoned,  after  many  struggles, 
for  that  of  Divinity.  Under  the  guidance  of  Keander,  Tholuck,  etc., 
he  came  to  a  firm  and  peaceful  faith, — and  in  the  year  1825,  became 
Pastor  at  SchOnbrunn  and  Eosen,  where  he  continued  seven  years. 
"While  there  he  wrote  a  review  of  a  work  on  the  Catholic  Church  of 
Silesia,  which  attracted  much  attention  and  admiration. 

In  1831,  he  was  appointed  second  University  Preacher  at  GOttingen, 
and  in  connection  with  this  office,  began  lectures  on  Practical  The- 
ology and  Pedagogics.  It  was  here  that  he  preached  his  sermons 
on  the  Christian  Life.  In  1834  he  was  appointed  Professor  Extra- 
ordinarius  of  Theology,  and  in  1835  Professor  Ordinarius  at  Mar- 
burg. Here  he  lectured  four  years,  especially  on  Dogmatics  and 
Morals,  and  with  distinguished  success — and  was  then  appointed 
Professor  at  Halle,  where  he  now  is.  His  great  work  is  "  The  Chris- 
tian Doctrine  of  Sin."  Ho  has  published  very  able  articles  in  the 
"  Studien  and  Kritiken,"  and  other  Journals,  one  in  answer  to  Strauss 
— and  has  written  also  an  able  work  in  defence  of  the  Evangelical 
Union  against  the  attacks  of  the  exclusive  Lutheran  party,  who  are 
endeavoring  to  subvert  it. 

Professor  Muller  belongs,  theologically,  with  ISTeauder,  ISTitszch, 
Tholuck,  etc. : — ^.  e.  among  the  liberal  evangelical  theologians  a? 
opposed  to  exclusive  Calvinism,  exclusive  Lutheranism,  and  tlio  in- 
difference of  Kationalism.    He  is  a  man  of  earnest,  serious,  reverent 

341 


342  JULIUS   MULLER. 

and  pious  character,  and  is  one  of  tlie  most  profound  and  scientific 
Theologians  in  Germany  ;  possessing  a  shining  and  disciplined  intel- 
lect of  great  argumentative  grasp.  Isext  to.  Professor  Tholuck,  his 
bosom  friend,  he  forms  the  chief  attraction  of  the  University  at 
Halle  ;  and  throughout  Germany,  owing  to  his  practical  wisdom,  his 
piety  and  great  moral  worth,  he  stands  a  kind  of  umpire  amid  the 
theological  conflicts  of  the  day.  By  some  misfortune  he  early  lost 
one  eye,  and  quite  recently  a  shock  of  apoplexy  has  injured  his 
memory,  and  threatened  to  interfere  materially  with  the  prosecution 
of  his  labors.  His  loss  or  disability  would  be  widely  and  deeply  felt. 
In  personal  appearance  he  is  tall,  dignified,  and  fine-looking,  with  the 
bearings  of  a  courteous  and  amiable  Christian  gentleman. 

As  a  preacher,  Professor  Mtiller  occupies  a  high  rank.  In  reading 
his  sermons,  however,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  sermon 
in  Germany,  is  not  so  high  a  thing  intellectually  as  the  sermon  with 
us.  l!fot  so  much  discussion  and  thought  are  expected — nor  would 
they  be  appreciated.  Hence  there  is  a  wide  interval  between  the 
Sermons  of  Muller  and  his  Theological  Treatises  and  Lectures,  in 
respect  to  the  mental  power  displayed.  They  show,  rather,  how 
much  heart  he  has,  and  how  a  learned  theologian  can  speak  on  the 
gospel  to  young  men  and  to  the  people.  His  style  is  polished  and 
tasteful,  though  not  sprightly,  his  arrangement  clear  and  distinct,  and 
he  glides  in  a  graceful  and  happy  way  from  one  part  to  the  other  of 
the  subject  under  remark.  None  of  his  Sermons  (with  a  single 
exception)  have  appeared  in  English ;  a  circumstance  which  afl^brds 
us  the  greater  pleasure  in  submitting  to  the  public  those  here 
furnished. 


DISCOURSE  XIX.    ^ 

THE  SUPERIOR  MIGHT  OF  GOD'S  SERVANTS. 

If  there  be,  my  respected  hearers,  any  one  among  those  about 
our  Lord  while  on  earth,  who  deserves  the  name  of  a  man,  in 
the  noblest  sense  of  the  word,  it  is  John  the  Baptist,  whom  the 
Christian  Church  of  our  country  to-day  commemorates.*  When 
Christ,  on  one  occasion,  called  Peter  a  rock,  He  significantly  and 
encouragingly  alluded  to  that  which  Peter  was  afterwards  to 
become.  The  Peter  who  attempts  to  walk  upon  the  waves,  and 
then  is  frightened,  and  begins  to  sink,  as  soon  as  he  sees  the 
storm  striking  him  ;  who  protests  that  he  will  go  with  his  Mas- 
ter to  prison  and  to  death,  and  a  few  hours  afterwards  thrice 
denies  Him — this  Peter  was  at  that  time,  certainly,  as  yet  no 
rock.  Then,  on  the  contrary,  Jesus,  in  order  to  show  the  Jews 
what  they  w^ere  not  to  look  for  in  John,  asks  them  :  "  What 
went  ye  out  to  see — a  reed,  shaken  by  the  wind  ?"  He  spoke 
not  of  the  future,  but  of  the  past  and  the  present.  He  pointed 
to  that  strong,  invincible  firmness  in  John,  with  which  he 
preached  repentance  to  all  the  people,  without  asking  whether  he 
pleased  or  displeased  them  thereby,  and  with  which  he  rebuked 
the  sins  of  the  mightiest,  without  fearing  their  anger  or  their 
vengeance.  Such  a  man  of  God  certainly  deserves  to  have  his 
memory  celebrated,  and  his  actions  held  up  for  a  model,  in  the 

Christian  Church. 

ft. 

*  Preached  on  St.  John's  Festival. 

848 


3M  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

Or  shall  we  believe  that  this  unbending  firmness  and  vigor  in 
the  assertion  of  the  truth,  belongs  properly  to  the  virtues  of  the 
Old  Testament,  which  are  foreign  to  the  order  of  the  new  Cove- 
nant ;  and  that  Christian  virtue  is  properly  Love,  and  that  love 
precludes  this  severe  earnestness,  and  reveals  itself  only  as  gentle- 
ness, pliancy,  and  patience  ?  Oh,  let  us  guard  ourselves,  my  dear 
friends,  against  any  such  perverted  opinions  ;  which  are  so  much 
the  more  dangerous,  the  more  they  carry  the  seductive  appear- 
ance of  truth.  The  right  kind  of  love  does  not  exclude  John's 
method  of  dealing,  but  strengthens  it.  It  does  not  weaken  the 
firmness  ;  it  does  not  destroy  the  earnestness  ;  it  does  not  break 
the  energy  of  one's  activity  ;  but  it  exalts  and  ennobles  these 
qualities.  That  love  is  a  false  sentiment,  which  knows  not  how  to 
be  strong,  which  always  speaks  only  of  yielding  an  acquiescence; 
which  cries  without  intermission,  "  Peace,  peace,"  when  there 
is  no  peace.  Such  love  is  ordinarily  a  pretext  for  indolence 
and  weakness.  True  love,  on  the  contrary,  acts  on  the  princi- 
ple, that  the  real  good  of  the  person  loved  can  spring  only  from 
truth  and  righteousness.  It,  therefore,  begets  in  every  soul 
whicli  it  animates  a  deep,  repelling  hatred  of  everything  bad 
and  perverse.  Therefore,  it  bids  us  rather  perish  than  act 
against  God's  will,  or  even  be  silent  towards  an  iniquity  which 
we  are  called  to  withstand. 

In  a  peculiar  degree  do  we,  in  our  time,  need  to  look  at  that 
high  model  of  free,  manly  feeling  ;  when  the  word  is  so  abundant 
m  empty  talk,  and  so  meagre  in  strong  action  ;  when  there  is  so 
much  apparent  enthusiasm,  and  so  little  honest  devotion  to  the 
truth  ;  when  multitudes  are  so  passionately  chasing  after  out- 
ward freedom,  and  trouble  themselves  not  at  all  about  that 
inward  freedom,  without  which  the  outward  has  no  value  and 
no  significance.  It  is  this  inward  freedom  which  gives  to  the 
servants  of  God  that  invincible  power  over  the  children  of  the 
world,  and  of  just  this  superiority  the  life  and  death  of  John 
aiTords  a  glorious  example.  Let  us  more  closely  consider  this 
example,  during  this  hour  of  devotion. 


345 


"But,  when  Herod  heard  thereof]  he  said,  it  is  John,  whom  I  belicaded:  he  is  risen 
from  the  dead.  For  Herod  himself  had  sent  forth  and  hiid  hold  upon  John,  and  bound 
him  in  prison  for  Herodias'  sake,  his  brother  Philip's  wife  :  for  he  had  married  her.  For 
John  had  said  unto  Herod,  It  is  not  lawful  for  thee  to  have  thy  brother's  wife.  There- 
fore Herodias  had  a  quarrel  against  him,  and  would  have  killed  him :  but  she  could  not. 
For  Herod  feared  John,  knowing  that  he  was  a  just  man  and  a  holy,  and  observed  him  ; 
and  when  he  heard  him,  he  did  many  things  and  heard  him  gladly.  And  when  a  con- 
venient day  was  come,  that  Herod  on  his  birthday  made  a  supper  to  his  lards,  high 
captains,  and  chief  estdtes  of  Galilee.  And  when  the  daughter  of  the  said  Herodias 
came  in,  and  danced,  and  pleased  Herod  and  them  that  sat  with  him,  the  king  said  unto 
the  damsel.  Ask  of  me  whatsoever  thou  wilt,  and  I  will  give  it  thee.  And  he  sware  unto 
her,  "Whatsoever  thou  shalt  ask  of  me,  I  will  give  it  tbee,  unto  the  half  of  my  kingdom. 
And  she  went  forth,  and  said  unto  her  mother.  What  shall  I  ask?  And  she  said.  The 
head  of  John  the  Baptist.  And  she  came  in  straightway  with  haste  unto  the  king,  and 
asked,  saying,  I  will  that  thou  give  me,  by  and  by,  in  a  charger,  the  head  of  John  the 
Baptist.  And  the  king  was  exceedingly  sorry  ;  yet  for  his  oatli's  sake,  and  for  their  sakea 
which  sat  with  him,  he  would  not  reject  her.  And  immediately  the  king  sent  an  execu- 
tioner, and  commanded  his  head  to  be  brought :  and  he  went  and  beheaded  him  in  the 
prison.  And  brought  his  head  in  a  charger,  and  gave  it  to  the  damsel :  and  the  damsel 
gave  it  to  her  mother." — M.\rk  vi.  lG-28. 

The  text,  at  first  view,  appears  but  little  suited  to  bring 
before  our  minds  this  invincible  power  of  the  servants  of  God,_ 
in  thei*r  struggle  with  the  world.  It  seems  rather  to  remind  us 
of  their  weakness,  and  of  their  frequent  overthrow  in  this  strug- 
gle ;  for  it  exhibits  to  us,  at  JSrst,  the  solitary  prison  of  the 
servant  of  God,  and  at  last  his  bleeding  head.  And  yet  this 
weakness,  this  deficit  is,  in  fact,  only  in  appearance.  Outwardly, 
John  lies  beneath  his  foe  ;  spiritually,  he  vanquishes  him,  mas- 
ters him  by  force,  carries  him  off  in  triumph  against  his  will. 
And  in  order  to  convince  you  of  this,  we  only  need  to  regard 
more  attentively  what  the  Evangehst  narrates  in  our  text.  Let 
us,  therefore,  learn  from  him  the  superiority  of  the  children  of 
God  over  the  children  of  the  world.  We  follow,  in  this  discus- 
sion, the  inner  order  of  the  events  which  our  text  describes. 

Herod,  the  Tetrarch  of  Galilee,  whom  his  subjects  styled  a 
king,  had  robbed  his  brother  Philip  of  his  wife,  the  vain  Hero- 
dias, and  married  her  after  his  own  wife  had  fled  from  him. 
Philip  is  compelled  to  submit  to  this  violence  of  his  overbearing 
brother.  The  powerful  in  Galilee  are  silent  at  the  wicked  deed, 
or  applaud  it  with  abject  flattery.     The  nation  is  amazed  at  this 

15* 


346  JULIUS    MULLEE. 

double  and  threefold  transgression  of  the  law,  but  fear  shuts 
their  mouths.  Before  all  these,  his  subjects,  the  tyrant  felt  no 
fear,  because  they  feared  him.  He  knew  that  they  loved  the 
pleasures  of-  sense — the  earthly  life — above  everything  else,  and 
so  he  wanted  not  means  to  bind  them  by  fear,  and  even  l)y 
hope,  to  his  evil  deeds. 

But  there  was  one  ove.'  whom  these  meanis  avail  nothing  ; 
because  He  is  lifted  far  above  all  earthly  fear  and  hope.  One 
man  alone  compels  the  criminal  prince  to  tremble  before  Him,  It 
is  the  Prophet  of  the  wilderness,  who  goes  clothed  with  a 
garment  of  camel's  hair  and  is  girt  with  a  leathern  girdle,  and 
whose  food  is  locusts  and  wild  honey.  Whether  it  was  that 
Herod  had  asked  Him  for  His  judgment,  in  the  hope  of  using  the 
great  credit  which  the  Baptist  enjoyed  among  the  people,  to 
palliate  his  detested  deed  in  their  eyes,  or  whether  it  was  that 
John  felt  it  to  be  his  duty,  unasked,  to  chastise  the  powerful 
sinner,  he  at  any  rate  tells  the  king  plainly  :  ''It  is  not  lawful 
for  thee  to  have  thy  brother's  wife."  His  words  bear  the 
impress  of  the  calmest  self-possession,  and  they  must  have  oper- 
ated so  much  the  more  powerfully  on  the  mind  of  the  king.  Do 
you  ask,  whence  John  acquired  this  boldness  ?  Was  it,  per- 
chance, that  he  stood  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  party  which 
could  have  protected  him  against  the  wrath  and  vengeance  of 
Herod  ?  Oh  !  sin  not,  through  any  such  distrust,  against  the 
pure  spirit  of  John,  which  was  far  from  being  actuated  by  such 
low  motives.  Defenceless,  there  he  stands,  a  lamb  in  the  midst 
of  ravening  wolves  ;  but  inwardly,  strong  in  the  superior  might 
of  a  true  servant  of  God.  To  God  had  he  consecrated  his  life, 
ready  to  die  in  His  service,  when  it  should  be  his  duty.  There- 
fore, was  he  free  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word,  free  in  the 
midst  of  a  thousand  slaves.  Therefore,  was  the  tyrant  not  able, 
with  all  his  power,  to  prevent  him  from  uttering  a  truth  that 
struck  him  to  the  earth. 

John's  mode  of  dealing  shows  the  way  to  that  true  freedom 
which  makes  us  invincible  in  conflict  with  the  world  and  its 


THE  surL'iiioK  :migiit  of  goi/s  servants.  347 

pou'crs.  Let  us  imitate  liis  example,  and  uot  follow  the  wild  and 
unintelligible  shout  of  the  multitude,  who  go  chasing  after  tho 
l)hantoni  of  a  mere  outward  freedom ;  let  us  not  be  misled  by 
the  beguiling  voice  of  those  betrayers  who  promise  us  liberty, 
,and  are  themselves  "the  servants  of  corruption."  lie  alone  is 
free,  ^Yho  carries  that  within  him  which  lifts  him  altogether 
above  the  earthly  life,  and  surrenders  himself  with  a  pure  heart 
to  the  will  of  God.  "  If  the  Son,  therefore,  shall  make  you 
free,"  says  Christ,  "  ye  shall  be  free,  indeed,"  No  power  of  the 
world  has  conferred  on  us  this  freedom,  and  no  power  of  the 
world  can  wrest  it  from  us.  He  who  cannot  look  into  the  earn- 
est face  of  death  without  trembling,  he  is  not  truly  free  ;  and 
were  he  never  so  free  in  outward  circumstances,  yet  is  he  a  slave 
to  the  earth.  His  life  does  not  belong  to  him,  but  he  belongs  to 
his  life.  For  life  does  not  truly  become  our  own,  until  we 
are  prepared  to  give  it  up  for  the  sake  of  God.  Out  of  the 
highest  renunciation,  springs  the  most  perfect  possession.  "  Who- 
soever," says  Christ,  '*  will  save  his  life,  shall  lose  it  ;  and  who 
soever  shall  lose  his  life  for  My  sake,  shall  find  it." 

But,  if  we  have  once  obtained  this  freedom,  what  power  can  pre- 
vent us  from  testifying,  in  oar  vocation,  to  the  truth  ;  from  testify- 
ing to  the  truth,  even,  when  to  the  respected  and  powerful,  be  it 
in  the  greater  or  smaller  spheres  of  life,  it  is  a  stone  of  stumbling 
and  a  rock  of  offence — because  by  it  their  sin  and  folly  are  chas- 
tised ?  Say  not  that,  *'  In  most  cases,  it  is  not  to  be  expected 
we  can,  by  bold  censure,  succeed  in  altering  the  evil  ;  that  if  the 
sin  is  once  done,  it  cannot  be  undone  ;  and  that  even  though  the 
warning  word  were  to  precede  the  crime,  it  would  be,  for  the 
most  part,  in  vain  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  by  such  a  free 
confession  of  the  truth,  we  might  very  easily  destroy  or  endanger 
our  own  circle  of  influence,  which  it  is  our  duty  most  carefully  to 
preserve,  and  might  thus  be  depriving  the  world  of  many  bless- 
ings." Oh  !  how  vain  does  this  prudence  which  dictates  such 
declarations,  appear  before  the  simplicity  of  John  !  He  knew 
very  well,  that  by  his  censure  he  would  not  be  able  to  undo  the 


34S  JULIUS   MULLEU. 

iniquity  of  Herod,  once  committed.  lie  also  knew  Herod  loo 
well,  to  expect  that,  on  account. of  hia  word,  he  would  dissolve 
his  incestuous,  adulterous  alliance.  But  it  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  him  that  Herod,  and  that  all  the  people  should 
know  that  God  is  "  not  a  God  that  hath  pleasure  in  wickedness,'' 
and  that  such  crimes  arc  an  abomination  in  His  eyes.  The  more 
powerful  and  respected  the  transgressor  of  the  law  was,  so  much 
the  more  important  did  it  seem  to  him  for  ibo  servant  of  God  to 
mark  out  and  expose  in  his  conduct,  ad  that  belonged  to  sin, 
and  that  ought  not  to  be  imitated  by  the  people,  but  rather  be 
abhorred  and  shunned  by  them.  Or  again,  shall  a  regard  for  our 
sphere  of  influence  prevent  us  from  testifying  to  the  truth,  when 
we  are  opposed  to  some  earthly  power  ?  Oh  1  let  not  any  one 
deem  himself  so  indispensable  in  the  world,  as  to  suppose  that 
his  place  could  be  supplied  by  no  other,  and  that  the  good  cause, 
in  a  larger  or  smaller  circle,  would  at  once  go  to  ruin,  if  he  were 
no  longer  acting  in  it  1  Here,  too,  let  John  serve  as  an  example 
for  us.  He  was  operating  benignly  upon  a  large  part  of  the 
nation  ;  he  was  waking  thousands  from  the  sleep  of  sin,  and  urging 
them  powerfully  to  rise  and  seek  God,  And  this  whole  ministry 
of  his,  so  rich  in  blessings,  he  boldly  staked,  rather  than  shrink 
from  his  duty  of  chastising  the  prince.  To  be  obedient  to  the 
known  will  of  God — oh  !  Let  a  preference  for  this  lift  us  superior 
to  every  earthly  consideration.  Let  us  never  commit  the  sin  of 
doing  evil  that  good  may  come.  Then  shall  we  also,  like  John, 
become  strong  and  invincible  in  our  contest  with  the  world. 
Yes,  when  our  influence  in  the  cause  of  truth  apparently  falls  to 
the  ground,  we  shall  then  be  exerting  the  strongest  influence. 
In  being  cast  down,  we  conquer. 

This  truth  John  also  experienced.  Herod,  burning  with  wrath 
against  the  bold  reprover,  casts  him  into  prison.  But  can  he 
thereby  hinder  the  influence  of  that  spoken  word  ?  And  did  the 
people  honor  the  imprisoned  witness  for  the  truth  any  the  less 
than  when  he  was  free  ?  Must  not  the  words  which  they  had 
heard  from  him,  have  sunk  all  the  deeper  into  their  hearts,  for  the 


349 

fact  that  tlicy  saw  the  witness  suffer  for  the  truth's  sake  ?  But 
also  in  relation  to  Ilerod  himself,  how  much  stronger  does 
he  appear  than  the  king  !  Though  in  his  chains,  he  is  free  ;  his 
soul  is  not  fettered,  though  his  body  is  ;  yea,  from  out  of  liis  pris- 
on, he  rules  his  very  gaoler.  Ilerod,  it  is  said,  "  feared  John, 
knowing  that  he  was  a  just  man  and  an  holy,  and  observed  him: 
and  when  he  heard  him,  he  did  many  things,  and  heard  him 
gladly."  The  vengeance  of  Ilerodias  seeks  to  entice  him  to  the 
murder  of  the  holy  man  ;  and  there  is  something  in  himself  that 
makes  him  desire  the  death  of  John.  But  these,  also,  awake  in 
his  soul  better  impulses  which  drive  back  the  murderous  thought 
into  its  darkest  corner,  and  he  is  tied  by  a  mysterious  dread  and 
reverence  for  his  prisoner. 

Do  you  find  this  mingling  of  feelings  in  Herod's  mind  strange 
and  contradictory  ?  And  yet,  in  this  respect,  he  but  resembled 
by  far  the  greater  number  of  the  children  of  the  world.  Ruled 
by  carnal  impulses,  impelled  by  avarice  and  ambition,  by  vanity 
and  lust,  capable,  in  certain  circumstances,  of  committing  the 
avffullest  crimes,  they  are  yet  by  no  means  closed  against  salu- 
tary convictions.  A  silent  awe  bows  them  almost  involuntarily 
before  true  piety  and  Christian  virtue.  If  they  stand  in  near 
connection  with  such  servants  of  God,  holding  the  relation 
of  friend  with  friend,  of  husband  with  wife,  of  child  with  father 
and  mother,  of  church  member  with  pastor — they  will  listen  to 
them  in  many  things,  especially  where  obedience  is  not  too  hard, 
and  they  will  hearken  gladly  to  their  warning  word,  when 
it  does  not  rebuke  too  severely  their  darling  inclinations.  But, 
though  deeply  sunk  and  governed  by  earthly  lusts,  still  in  the 
innermost,  stillest  chambers  of  their  heart,  there  still  dwells  a 
secret  approbation  of  the  good,  which  is  dispelled  only  with 
an  entire  hardening. 

Do  you  know,  my  friendg,  what  is  the  thread  by  which  you 
to-day  are  to  lead  the  children  of  the  world  to  salvation  ?  Then 
let  him  who  would  be  a  servant  of  God  lay  hold  of  it  boldly,  not 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  predominance  to  his  own  will,  but  for 


350  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

the  purpose  of  furthering  the  khigdom  of  God  upon  earth.  For 
to  this  work  you  are  at  all  times  called,  in  "whatever  rank,  in 
whatever  relations  of  life  God  has  placed  you.  We  are  all 
to  follow  our  Saviour.  To  this  end  were  we  born  that  we,  like 
Ilim,  might  testify  to  the  truth  by  word  and  deed.  The  great 
mass  of  men  are,  as  I  have  remarked,  in  a  wavering  condition  ; 
but  though,  as  a  rule,  they  follow  the  impulses  of  selfishness,  yet 
a  nobler  thought  sometimes  wins  a  momentary  victory  over  these 
impulses,  which  is  without  a  lasting  salutary  effect.  This,  those 
children  of  darkness  know  well,,  who  with  determination  devote 
themselves  to  the  evil  one,  and  they  are,  therefore,  unweariedly 
active  in  drawing  others  deeper  and  deeper  into  their  net.  So 
Ilerodias,  who,  like  a  wicked  angel  to  the  soul  of  Herod,  strives 
to  blow  up  the  glimmering  spark  of  murderous  thought  into 
a  blaze. 

Shall,  then,  my  friends,  our  love  to  God  be  less  active  for  the 
salvation  of  souls,  than  is  wickedness  of  the  wicked  for  their  de- 
struction ?  Dare  we  resign  to  those  spirits  the  arena  of  conflict, 
and  withdraw  with  hopeless  abandonment  into  inactive  stillness, 
and  bury  the  talent  which  God  has  intrusted  to  us  ?  Far  be  it  ;  let 
us  rather  work  untiringly  while  it  is  day,  "for  the  night  cometh, 
when  no  man  can  work."  Are  others  the  evil  angels  of  the  chil- 
dren of  this  world  ?  We  will  be  their  good  angels.  Let  us  com- 
bat delusion  and  sin  without  fear  or  hesitation,  wherever  they 
meet  us.  Let  us  freely  proclaim  the  truth  and  the  will  of  God, 
and  seek  to  gain  for  them  a  recognition  among  those  who,  in 
their  life,  deny  both.  Let  us  defend  the  truth,  even  unto  death, 
and  the  Lord  will  contend  for  us.  Let  the  renunciation  of  this 
holy  conflict  be  as  impossible  for  us  as  for  the  glorious  hero  of 
faith,  who,  when  in  the  face  of  impending  destruction,  boldly 
declared,  "Here  I  stand — I  cannot  otherwise — God  help  me  I" 

Believe  me,  we  have  still  in  the  hearts  of  most  persons  a  secret 
confederate,  who,  at  the  favorable  hour,  opens  an  avenue  for  our 
entrance,  so  that  our  word  at  length  suffices  to  overcome  the 
Btiff  resistance.     And  if  it  happens  to  us  as  to  John  with  Ilerod, 


THE    SUPEKIOll    MIGHT    OF    GOD  S    SKRVANTS.  d51 

who  heard  hira  ghicily,  mid  listened  to  him  in  inany  things,  but  in 
his  inmost  heart  remained  unimproved,  oh,  let  us  always  regard 
it  as  a  great  gain  if,  by  our  cooperation,  we  can  succeed  in  bring- 
ing to  pass  any  good  at  all — in  guarding  against  anything  evil, 
in  compelling  any  error  to  yield  to  the  light  of  truth.  Let  us 
not  despise  the  fragment  because  we  cannot  gain  the  whole  ;  let 
us  not  trample  upon  the  germ  because  no  blade  of  grass  is  spring- 
ing up  from  it.  If  we  have  at  any  time  won  any  place  in  the 
heart  of  a  wicked  man,  let  us  courageously  maintain  it,  and  hope 
for  greater  victories  in  the  future. 

But  if  John  cherished  such  hopes,  you  say,  they  have,  as  it  seems, 
cruelly  deceived  him.  This  is  shown  by  the  sad  conclusion  of  his 
history.  Herod  celebrates  his  birthday  in  the  circle  of  the  great 
men  of  his  kingdom.  The  brilliance  and  noise  of  the  festival 
crowds  his  secret  connection  with  the  prisoner  back  into  the 
deepest  recess  of  his  soul.  The  daughter  of  Hcrodias  steps  into 
the  festal  hall,  and  delights  the  assembly  with  her  mazy  dance. 
The  king,  drunk  with  rapture,  frivolous  in  promise,  invites  her 
to  ask  of  him  a  favor,  and  promises  to  grant  her  request,  even 
to  the  half  of  his  kingdom.  The  daugliter  of  Hcrodias,  shrewdly 
weighing  the  importance  of  the  offer,  departs  to  consult  with 
her  mother,  and  then  comes  back  to  the  king  with  the  horrible 
petition,  "  I  wall  that  thou  give  me,  in  a  charger,  the  head  of 
John  the  Baptist."  Herod  is  appalled  and  troubled.  Mighty 
voices  in  his  soul  wax  loud  in  behalf  of  the  persecuted  servant  of 
God  ;  his  better  feeling  struggles  against  the  thought  of  mur- 
der, saying,  "  Sin  lieth  at  the  door  ;"  but  give  it  not  its  will  ; 
overcome  it. 

Yet  Herod's  struggle  is  in  vain  ;  there  is  no  deep  earnestness 
in  it.  The  hour  of  temptation  has  weighed  him,  and  found  him 
wanting.  Because  he  has  not  sincerely  given  himself  up  to  the 
divine  truth,  devilish  wickedness  has  bound  him  in  its  snares. 
Instead  of  rueing  the  sin  of  his  foolish  promise,  he  adds  to  it 
a)iother  tenfold  worse.  He  gives  the  bloody  command — the  head 
of  John  falls,  and  the  bloodthirsty  vengeance  of  Hcrodias  is  sa- 


352  JL'LIUS    MiJLLER. 

tiated.  Thus  Herod  hardened  his  heart  agaiust  the  holy  moni- 
tious  of  God,  so  that  now  upon  hhn,  as  his  later  history  informs 
us,  the  judgment  of  a  divine  hardening  was  inflicted.  The  murderer 
of  the  prophet  ripened  into  the  re  viler  of  the  suffering  Son  of 
God.  That  which  might  have  rescued  him — his  salutary  subjec- 
tion to  the  influence  of  John — he  himself,  with  audacious  hand, 
destroyed  by  the  murder  of  this  righteous  man. 

Yet  no,  not  wholly  ;  for  this  subjection  has  now  turned  into  a 
gloomy,  horrible  foreboding.  "  When  Herod,"  as  the  Evangelist 
tells  us  at  the  beginning  of  our  text,  "  heard  of  Jesus,  he  said, 
'It  is  John,  whom  I  beheaded  ;  he  is  risen  from  the  dead.'" 
This  one  word  affords  us  a  deep  insight  into  the  discomposure  of 
Herod's  mind.  The  murdered  still  exercises  a  silent  power  over 
the  soul  of  his  murderer.  The  latter  finds  no  rest  from  him, 
amid  the  regal  splendors  of  his  life.  Horrible  thoughts  haunt 
him,  like  apparitions.  When  he  hears  of  the  wonderful  deeds 
of  the  Saviour,  he  dreams  of  the  re-appearance  of  his  beheaded 
victim.  Thus,  too,  Sadduccan  unbelief  in  the  immortaUty  of  the 
soul,  blends  with  the  strangest  superstition.  Oh,  could  we  pene- 
trate the  secret  of  many  a  heart — could  we  follow  many  a  perse- 
cutor of  the  pious  and  righteous  into  his  calm,  solitary  hours, 
and  into  his  sleepless  nights,  how  often  should  we  discover  a 
parallel  to  this,  and  become  convinced  that  he  whom  the  world 
regards  as  the  vanquisher,  is,  in  fact,  the  vanquished  !  A  secret 
anxiety  comes  over  him,  as  often  as  he  thinks  of  his  evil  deeds, 
and  of  the  wide-spread  harm  which  he  has  done.  Upon  his  soul 
it  lies  with  a  heavy  weight,  and  when  he  seeks  rest  he  finds 
none  ;  for  the  very  avenue  to  Him  in  whom  alone  rest  for  our 
souls  is  to  be  found,  he  has  himself  effectually  closed. 

Yet  another  victory  did  John  achieve  over  Herod,  after  his 
death.  History  has  passed  judgment  upon  both.  The  kingdom  of 
Herod  has  long  since  perished  ;  every  trace  of  his  activity  has  long 
since  vanished  from  the  earth,  while  that  of  John  has  become  a 
mighty  pillar  in  that  most  glorious  edifice  whose  duration  is 
eternal  ;  and  his  word  to-day  is  still  operating  with  saving  power 


THE    SUPERIOR   MIGHT   OF   GOD's    SERVANTS.  353 

upon  millioDS  of  hearts.  The  name  of  Ilcrod,  history  has  handed 
down  among  the  names  of  the  murderers  of  the  Son  of  God — 
among  the  names  of  Pontius  Pilate,  of  Caiaphas,  of  Judas  Isca- 
riot — among  the  names  upon  which  the  curse  of  the  human  race 
rests — names  which  one  repeats  when  he  wishes  to  designate 
whatever  is  most  repulsive  and  monstrous.  The  name  of  Jolin, 
history  has  preserved  among  the  names  of  the  pious  of  the  Old 
Testament — yea,  in  inseparable  connection  with  the  most  holy 
name  of  the  Kedeemer  of  the  world. 

My  friends,  can  we  hide  from  ourselves  the  fact,  that  we  live 
in  a  deeply  agitated,  excited  time  ;  when  opposition  and  hatred 
against  the  word  of  God,  and  against  His  church,  come  forth 
unveiled  and  resolute  ;  in  a  time  which  threatens  the  kingdom 
of  the  Lord  with  open  warfare  ?  The  servants  of  God  know, 
indeed,  that  no  hair  shall  fall  from  their  head  without  the  Fath- 
er's will — that  to  them  all  things  shall  work  for  good — but  no- 
where is  a  promise  given  them  that,  in  their  struggles  with  the 
world,  they  shall  be  exempted  from  all  injury  to  body  and  life. 
On  the  contrary,  they  are  admonished  by  the  instance  of  John — 
by  the  fate  of  the  prophets  and  apostles,  and  by  the  death  of 
the  Lord  himself,  to  prepare  themselves  for  all  extremities.  But 
this,  again,  they  are  assured  of,  that  the  works  which  they  have 
done  in  God  the  world  cannot  destroy  ;  the  continuity  of  their 
blessed  inj^uence  upon  coming  generations  it  cannot  arrest.  The 
whole  course  and  action  of  the  world  is  splintered  and  self-con- 
tradictory. The  errors  and  sins  of  men  are  in  ceaseless  conflict, 
not  only  with  the  good  and  true,  but  also  with  each  other.  The 
pious  endeavors  of  the  servants  of  God,  on  the  contrary,  mutually 
strengthen  and  sustain  each  other.  With  them  nothing  happens 
in  vain — nothing  is  lost.  What  in  itself  appears  weak  and 
small,  becomes  great  and  mighty  through  its  close  connection 
with  similar  works  of  countless  others.  Children,  and  children's 
children,  dwell  with  thankful  love  upon  the  names  of  pious  an- 
cestors. The  grateful  recognition  of  good  deeds  always  comes, 
though  often  late.     The  justice  which  a  contemporary  genera 


354  JULIUS    MULLEE. 

tion,  blinded  by  passion  and  party  rage,  denied  to  them,  is  al- 
lowed them  by  the  more  considerate  judgment  of  an  after  age. 
And  though  the  circle  in  which  they  labored  be  ever  so  small, 
"  the  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed." 

But  the  perfected  victory  of  the  children  of  God  over  the 
children  of  the  world,  lies  not  within  the  sphere  of  the  earthly 
life,  but  beyond  its  bounds,  in  a  higher  future.  Yes,  we  will 
frankly  confess,  that  the  whole  life  of  the  Christian  remains  an 
unsolved  riddle,  if  there  were  no  such  future.  Yet,  let  us  never 
hear  it  urged,  by  way  of  reproach,  that  Christians,  when  they 
cannot  establish  the  truth  of  their  assertions  from  the  present 
state  of  existence,  appeal  to  the  future.  How  could  they  do 
otherwise  ?  The  full  justification  of  their  faith  and  life  lies,  in 
reality,  beyond  this  present  state.  John  dies  in  prison  by  the 
sword  of  the  executioner  ;  but  his  soul  goes  to  God,  and  receives 
in  His  Paradise  the  blessed  reward  of  his  fidelity  ;  while  to  his 
persecutors,  death  brings  only  the  miserable  wages  of  their  en- 
mity against  God.  "  For  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat of  Christ,  that  every  one  may  receive  the  things  done 
in  his  body  according  to  that  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good 
or  bad."  Then  will  the  Lord  take  his  faithful  servants  to  him- 
self, that  they  may  see  his  glory,  "  For  where  I  am,"  he  says, 
"  there  shall  also  my  servant  be."  But  the  children  of  the  world, 
vrho  have  persistently  resisted  his  call  to  repentance,  and  have 
persecuted  Him  in  his  church,  he  will  give  up  to  the  tormenting 
darkness  to  which  they  have  devoted  themselves,  "For,"  says 
the  apostle  Paul,  "  it  is  a  righteous  thing  with  God  to  recom- 
pense tribulation  to  them  that  trouble  you  ;  and  to  you,  who 
arc  troubled,  rest  with  us,  when  the  Lord  Jesns  shall  be  re- 
vealed from  heaven  !"     Amen. 


DISCOURSE    XX. 


THE  WALK  OF  CHRIST  UPON  THE  WAVES. 

"  But  the  ship  was  now  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  tossed  with  waves  ;  for  the  wind  was 
contrary.  And  in  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night  Jesus  went  unto  them,  walking  on  the 
sea.  And  when  the  disciples  saw  him  walking  on  the  sea,  they  were  troubled,  saying,  It 
is  a  spirit :  and  they  cried  out  for  fear.  But  straightway  Jesus  spake  unto  them,  saying, 
Be  of  good  cheer  ;  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid.  And  Peter  answered  him  and  said.  Lord,  if  it 
be  thou,  bid  me  come  unto  thee  on  the  water.  And  he  said.  Come.  And  when  Peter  was 
come  down  out  of  the  ship,  he  walked  on  the  water,  to  go  to  Jesus.  But  when  he  saw 
the  wind  boisterous,  he  was  afraid  ;  and  beginning  to  sink,  he  cried,  saying,  Lord,  save 
me.  And  immediately  Jesus  stretched  forth  Ids  hand,  and  caught  him,  and  said  unto  him, 
0  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt  ?  And  when  they  were  come  into  the 
slrip,  the  wind  ceased.  Then  they  that  were  in  the  ship  came  and  worshipped  him,  say- 
ing. Of  a  truth  thou  art  the  Son  of  God."— Matt.  xiv.  24r-33. 

As  the  prophets  of  the  old  covenant,  my  hearers,  often  gave 
a  symbolical  stamp  to  their  actions,  in  order  to  portray  the  future 
and  its  great  events  to  the  people,  as  in  a  picture,  so  we  see  Christ 
also  not  unfrequently  availing  himself  of  the  same  practice.  When, 
for  example,  he  withered  up  the  fig-tree,  which  bore  leaves,  in- 
deed, but  no  fruit,  he  intended  thereby  plainly  to  indicate  the 
impending  fate  of  the  people,  Israel.  For  however  brilliant  and 
promising  was  the  jubilant  reception  with  which  they  received 
their  King  when  he  rode  into  Jerusalem,  he  yet  sought  in  vain 
among  them  for  the  fruits  of  a  holy,  earnest  devotion,  of  an 
honest  and  faithful  dependence  on  Him.  A  similar  symbolical 
character  we  detect  also  in  the  transaction,  whose  record  you 
have  just  been  listening  to.     For  though  the  first  and  most  direct 

865 


356  JULIUS    MiJLLEE. 

lessou  to  be  learned  from  the  walking  of  Christ  upon  the  storm- 
tossed  sea  of  Galilee,  is  the  dominion  which  He,  as  the  Son  of 
God,  exercised  over  nature  ;  yet  the  fact  is  at  the  same  time  the 
token  of  a  still  greater  lordship  which  belonged  to  Him,  and 
^hich  He  has  continued  to  exercise  ever  since  he  appeared  upon 
the  earth — I  mean  His  dominion  over  the  spiritual  life  of  men. 
Now  whilst  this  event,  so  apprehended,  is  full  of  significance  for 
all  times,  it  must  be,  to  us,  especially  at  this  crisis,  in  the  highest 
degree  important  and  consoling  to  observe,  in  this  picture,  a 
vivid  representation  of  Christ,  as  the  ruler  over  all  the  great 
movements  now  happening.  And  who  can  fail  to  j^erceive  the 
deep  meaning  which  Peter's  attempt  to  walk,  like  his  master, 
upon  the  billows  of  the  sea,  has  for  us  ?  Do  we  not  here  receive 
hints  worthy  of  the  most  serious  regard,  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  we  are  to  conduct  ourselves  in  this  agitated  time,  in  order 
to  keep  from' sinking  under  its  waves  ?  In  this  sense,  and  from 
this  point  of  view,  we  propose  to  make  use  of  the  events  which 
our  text  narrates.  Let  the  walking  of  Christ  and  of  his  disciple 
Peter  upon  the  lake  of  Gennesareth,  be  the  subject  of  our  medi- 
tation. The  order  of  the  text  vrill  give  the  order  to  our  dis- 
course. 

Upon  the  lake  of  Gennesareth,  we  descry  in  the  darkness  of 
night  a  vessel.  It  bears  a  company  which  is  well  known  to  us. 
It  is  the  disciples  of  Christ,  whom  their  master,  the  evening  pre- 
vious, had  bidden  to  sail  across  the  lake  alone.  And  docs  it 
not  seem  as  if  everything  were  against  them,  now  that  they  are 
deserted  by  him  ?  The  lake  is  stirred  by  a  violent  wind,  which 
blows  contrary.  Already  have  they  struggled  many  hours  with 
the  waves,  and  still  they  find  themselves  in  the  middle  of  the 
sea,  which  at  other  times  they  have  often  crossed,  in  less  than 
an  hour. 

Who  among  us,  beloved  friends,  can  fail  to  perceive  that  this 
stormy,  billowy  sea,  is  a  most  striking  image  of  our  time,  which, 
in  its  deep  and  universal  agitation,  has  hardly  a  parallel  in  the 
history  of  the  human  race  ?     We  are  now  no  longer  engaged  in 


THE   WALKING   ON   THE   WAVES.  357 

a  contest  of  isolated  opinions  and  views,  wliicli  indeed  has  always 
been  waged.  The  higliest  principles,  wliose  antagonism  strikes 
its  roots  deep  into  the  innermost  depths  of  the  human  soul,  have 
entered  the  list  against  each  other  for  an  irreconcilable  combat, 
which  has  now  for  many  years  continued  to  rage.  For  a  time, 
indeed,  it  appeared,  as  if  the  storm,  at  least  in  the  civil  life  of 
the  nations,  had  been  hushed  ;  yet  it  was  but  a  deceitful  appear- 
ance like  that  appalling  stillness,  which  sometimes  upon  the  sea 
interrupts  for  a  moment  the  war  of  the  storm,  as  if  the  elements 
w^ere  gathering  strength  for  a  redoubled  violence.  While  the 
surface  was  calm,  it  heaved  and  swelled  in  the  depths  ;  and  these 
wild  commotions  and  passionate  struggles,  which  have  broken 
forth  in  our  day,  did  they  not  oil  issue  from  the  pregnant  womb 
of  the  season  just  past,  and  thence  derive  their  nourishment  ? 
And  when  we  now  look  around  us,. what  a  spectacle  does  the 
present  exhibit  ?  Is  not  confusion  everywhere  in  conflict  with 
confusion,  error  with  error,  selfishness  with  selfishness  ?  Do  not 
corruption  and  mischief  threaten  us  on  all  sides  ?  Do  not  the 
powers  of  the  abyss  appear  to  have  been  let  loose,  to  instigate 
men  into  irreconcilable  hate  and  strife,  one  against  the  other  ? 
Oh,  my  friends,  let  us  hide  nothing  from  ourselves  ;  thick  dark- 
ness lies  over  our  earthly  future,  so  that  no  human  eye  can  dis- 
cern it.  The  ship  of  our  life,  of  its  repose  and  its  bliss,  is  every 
moment  in  danger  of  being  swallowed  up  by  the  waves  or  of 
being  shattered  upon  unknown  rocks. 

Yet  there,  upon  the  lake  of  Gennesareth,  the  darkness  begins 
to  yield  to  the  approaching  light.  The  fourth  watch  is  come  ; 
the  grey  of  dawn  appears  ;  those  charming  heights — which 
toward  the  west  encircle  and  crown  the  sea,  while  the  craggy 
masses  of  rock  towards  the  east  grow  the  darker  ;  soon  will  the 
first  streaks  of  the  morning  red  glide  over  the  lake  ;  suddenly, 
and  together  with  the  twilight,  lo.  He  suddenly  appears — the 
long  wished-for  master,  w^alking  upon  the  sea.  Wonderful  spec- 
tacle I  The  tossing  wave  sustains  His  foot,  as  if  it  were  the 
sohd  ground  ;  the  insurgent  billows  acknowledge,  amazed,  their 


358  JULIUS    MULLER. 

mighty  sovereign,  Him  who  once  bade  them  "  be  still,"  aud  they 
were  still.  With  a  firm  and  sure  step,  He  walks  there  upon  the 
flowing  element,  towards  the  distressed  boat.  The  towering 
waves  may  sometimes,  indeed  for  a  moment,  hide  Him  from 
the  eyes  of  his  disciples,  but  they  cannot  block  His  path  to  the 

I  goal. 

What  then  took  place,  Christian  hearers,  takes  place  again  to- 
day. Over  the  foaming  waves  of  agitated  thought  and  feeling, 
which  makes  us  fearful,  he  walks  calmly  as  their  Lord  and 
Sovereign.  They  may  rise  against,  but  they  cannot  overmaster 
Him.  They  may  sometimes  conceal  Him  from  the  sight  of  his 
disciples,  but  they  cannot  check  his  course.  They  must  at 
length  own  Him  as  their  Master,  and  serve  his  will.  Do  you 
not  see  Him  walking  in  might  through  the  press  and  tumult  ?  Is 
not  the  darkness  retiring  at  his  approach  ?  Comes  He  not  at- 
tended with  a  dusky  light,  with  blushes  of  the  morning  glow, 
which  proclaim  the  coming  day  ?  Have  not  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  hearts  been  awakened  out  of  deep  sleep  in  the 
midst  of  this  stormy  time,  and  recognized  Him  as  the  way  to 
the  Father — as  the  truth  and  the  life,  and  found  in  Him  a  new 
and  nobler  existence  ?  And  what  wonder  is  it,  if  just  now,  while 
he  is  drawing  near,  the  v/aves  should  foam  more  wildly,  and  the 
storm  rage  with  greater  violence  ?  Who  will  think  it  strange 
if  the  resistance   to   Him  aud  his   Gospel   should  rage   more 

I  fiercely  ?  if  men  should  defame  and  scorn  all  living  faith  in  Him, 
either  as  a  childish  delusion,  that  belongs  to  an  era  long  anti- 
quated, and  which  mankind,  now  waxen  mature,  has  outgrown, 
or  should  blaspheme  and  ridicule  it  as  a  hypocritical  imposition  ? 
Yea,  if  whole  nations  should  more  and  more  resolutely  turn 
away  from  this  faith.  Against  the  rising  light,  the  powers  of 
darkness,  error,  and  falsehood,  are  compelled  to  collect  their 
forces,  in  order  to  defend  their  tottering  kingdom  against  the 
Stronger  who  comes  to  conquer  it. 

Shall  we  therefore  fear  that  he  will  be  defeated  in  this  contest  ? 
What,  my  friend  !     Is  he  not  Josus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday, 


THE  WALKING  ON  THE  WAVES.  359 

to-day,  and  lor  ever?^/  The  same  whose  words  shall  not  pass 
away,  even  thongh  heaven  and  earth  pass  away  ?  The  same  who 
says  to  the  rapt  Apostle,  "  I  am  the  first  and  the  last  ;  I  am  he 
that  liveth  and  was  dead  ;  I  am  alive  for  evermore  ?"  After  the 
floods  of  time  shall  have  long  submerged  the  idols  of  this  gene- 
ration in  its  dark  depths,  he  will  still  be  walking  calmly  upon  its 
waves,  as  he  did  of  old,  and  as  he  does  now.  When  the  names 
of  those  who  in  their  vain  wisdom  deem  themselves  to  be  far  above 
Christ,  and  think  his  Gospel  to  have  been  worn  out  and  no  more 
needed.  His  name  will  live  upon  millions  of  lips  and  in  millions 
of  hearts,  and  children  will  lisp  this  name,  and  the  knees  of  men 
will  bow  at  the  mention  of  this  name,  and  pain  will  vanish,  and 
mourning  will  cease,  and  tears  will  be  dried,  and  the  deepest 
wounds  of  the  heart  will  be  healed  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 
For  there  is  salvation  in  no  other  :  "  for  there  is  no  other  name 
under  heaven,  given  among  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved." 
So  it  was  then,  when  Peter  spoke  these  words  ;  and  so  it  will  be 
to  the  end  of  days. 

Upon  the  disciples,  however,  the  sudden  appearance  of  the 
Lord,  near  the  vessel,  makes  an  entirely  different  impression 
from  what  would  have  been  expected.  The  circumstance  so 
miraculous  and  supernatural  appears  to  them,  in  the  grey  twi- 
light, as  something  strange  and  fearful.  As  they  see  the  form 
advancing  towards  them,  upon  the  waves,  they  cry  out  in  terror, 
"  It  is  a  Spirit  I"  and  anticipate  with  fright  the  sinking  of  their 
vessel  at  its  approach. 

When  He  meets  us,  as  the  mighty  ruler  of  the  world,  as  He 
whom  the  Father  has  made  the  Lord  of  the  dead  and  of  the  living, 
to  whom  he  has  given  power  "  to  execute  judgment  also,  be- 
cause he  is  the  Son  of  Man" — does  there  not  often  fall  upon 
pious  souls,  a  fear  and  trembling  before  Him  and  bis  irresistible 
power  ?  He  always  stands  before  them,  as  Judge,  in  a  threaten- 
ing form  ;  and  if  they  hear  the  gospel  of  his  love,  and  impelled  by 
a  deep,  longing,  desire  to  draw  near  to  Him  a  disquieting  sense  of 
His  majesty  frightens  them  back.     They  still  see  Him  only  in 


360  JULIUS    MULLEK. 

the  dusk,  therefore  their  fear  transforms  the  Kedeemer  into  a 
destroyer. 

But  is  anything  more  needed  to  banish  this  fear  from  the  sonl, 
than  that  He  should  come  nearer  to  us  and  talk  with  us,  and  let 
us  recognize  him,  as  he  there  talked  with  his  disciples,  and  said  : 
"  Be  of  good  cheer,  it  is  I,  be  not  afraid."  How  sweetly  sound 
these  words  !  How  comforting  their  import  !  Yes,  this  is  the 
sweet  voice  with  which  He  everywhere  speaks  to  us  in  the  Gos- 
pel. Fear  not  I  That  is  the  tone  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end.  So  He  calms  the  timorous  hearts  and  kindly  allures  them 
to  himself — fear  not,  it  is  I.  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  Kest  for  your 
souls,  the  heavenly  peace  which  you  so  much  need  amid  the  dan- 
gers of  this  time,  the  divine  comfort  which  will  not  suffer  you  to 
sink  in  the  floods — this  shall  you  find  in  Me.  Oh,  learn  to  know 
me,  as  I  also  know  you  and  your  weakness  and  anxiety — your 
struggles  and  strife,  so  fruitless  without  me  I  Am  I  not  come 
that  ye  might  have  life,  and  have  it  more  abundantly  ?  Am  I 
not  the  physician  of  the  sick — the  Saviour  of  the  lost — your 
tender-hearted  high  priest,  who  takes  compassion  on  your  weak- 
ness ?  "  All  power  is  given  to  me  in  heaven  and  upon  earth  ;" 
but  I  possess  it  for  your  good  ;  "for  unto  this  end  has  my  Father 
given  me  power  over  all  flesh,  that  I  might  give  eternal  life  to 
as  many  as  he  has  given  me."  Now,  oh,  how  that  majestic 
sovereignty  before  which  we  trembled,  turns  into  our  highest 
consolation.  Now  we  feel  assured  He  will  rule  over  the  world 
■ — will  rule  in  our  hearts,  not  with  iron  sceptre,  but  with  the 
mild  shepherd's  rod  of  love.  Thus  it  is,  he  wins  men  to  his  ser- 
vice, and  to  him  whom  he  has  won,  he  imparts  eternal  life  out 
of  his  divine  fullness  ;  ''Because  I  live,"  he  says,  ''ye  shall  live 
also  ;"  and  "  where  I  am,  there  shall  also  my  servant  be." 

Thus  Peter  thinks,  also — Peter,  the  man  of  fiery  spirit  and 
quick  resolve.  He  sees  the  Master  walking  upon  the  sea  ;  an 
urgent  desire  seizes  him  to  be  at  His  side,  and  to  walk  with  Him 
npon  the  waves — "  Lord,  if  it  be  Thou,  bid  me  come  unto  Thee 


THE    AVALKING    ON    THE    WAVES.  361 

on  the  water  I"  And  when  Christ  bids  liini  "  come,'*  he  steps 
forth  without  hesitation  from  the  vessel,  full  of  fiim  assurance, 
and  strides  towards  Jesus.  With  trembling-  joy,  he  perceives 
how  the  flowing  element  is  compelled  to  afford  him,  also,  a  safe 
path  ;  the  weaves  may  roar,  but  they  frighten  him  not ;  the 
depths  may  open,  but  him  they  cannot  swallow.  Already  does 
he  seem  to  be  sharing  with  his  Master  in  His  dominion  over 
nature  and  her  rebellious  powers. 

My  friends,  if  the  Gospel  of  Christ  presents  us  with  sure,  firm 
principles  for  estimating  the  movements  of -the  present,  if  it 
intrusts  to  us  the  word  that  solves  the  riddle  of  our  time,  the 
word  which  the  prudent  men  of  the  world,  the  obtrusive  physi- 
cians of  the  sick  generation,  in  vain  seek  for,  is  it  not  natural 
that  a  powerful  impulse  should  be  roused  in  ardent  souls,  to  rush 
with  a  spirit  for  contest  into  the  midst  of  the  confusion  of  the 
time,  in  order  to  help  to  end  it  ?  in  order  to  dissipate  the  delu- 
sions of  folly  and  passion,  and  rule  with  power  over  the  wild 
waves  of  discordant  opinions  ?  And  can  we  blame  them  for  this 
desire  ?  It  is  the  example  of  the  Lord  himself  which  allures 
them  to  it,  as  it  did  Peter  ;  for  Christ  also  did  not  withdraw 
Himself  from  the  apparently  inextricable  confusion  of  His  day  ; 
but  He  entered  into  the  raging  sea  of  passionate  strife,  interfer- 
ing between  embittered  parties,  in  order  that  by  living,  personal 
intercourse  with  all  on  every  side.  He  might,  through  the  divine 
clearness  of  His  soul,  bring  light  and  order  into  the  dark  time 
and  its  wild  movements  ;  in  order  that  He  might  point  suscep- 
tible hearts  to  the  one  thing  needful  for  founding  a  new — more 
beautiful  edifice,  in  the  impending  overthrow  of  everything  old. 
And  it  is  faith  in  His  word  that  empowers  them  for  this  under- 
taking, as  then  it  empowered  Peter.  This  faith  is  the  weapon 
with  which  they  will  contend  against  the  resistance  of  hostile 
powers  ;  it  is  the  light  that  shall  enlighten  them  in  the  dark- 
ness. And  their  assurance,  that  they  shall  stand  firm  in  the  bil- 
lowy sea,  and  safely  advance  to  the  goal,  is  grounded  upon  Him 
alone.     Should  we  not,  then,  rejoice,  when,  with  sympathetic 

16 


362  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

participation  in  public  interests,  tliey  seek  to  apply  their  excel- 
lent gifts  for  the  furtherance  of  the  common  weal,  and  extend  to 
it  their  pious  activity  ?  -Must  we  not  anticipate  a  rich  blessing 
from  their  efforts  ?  Will  they  not  work  mightily  for  the  salva- 
tion of  many  ?  Yes,  if  all  blossoms  were  to  become  fruits,  aud 
all  fruits  were  to  ripen  !  But  the  most  beautiful  blossoms  of  pious 
impulse,  of  noble  resolve,  are  swept  away  by  the  storm,  and  the 
most  promising  fruits  of  enterprises  well  begun  drop  off,  pierced 
by  the  worm,  before  they  can  ripen. 

This,  Peter  too  was  obliged  to  experience.  With  a  bold, 
confident  spirit  he  has  begun  his  walk  upon  the  sea  ;  but  all  at 
once  he  sees  a  strong  gust  of  wind  coming  which  rolls  up  yet 
mightier  surges.  Upon  this  he  becomes  terrified,  his  faith 
wavers,  his  courage  fails  :  *'  Will  not  the  roaring  flood  swallow 
me  up  ?" — and  ere  he  has  time  to  collect  himself,  he  begins  to 
sink. 

Our  Lord,  on  one  occasion,  said  to  His  disciples,  after  He  had 
invited  them  to  faithful,  self-denying  imitation  of  Him  :  "  For 
which  of  you  intending  to  build  a  tower,  sitteth  not  down  first, 
and  counteth  the  cost,  whether  he  have  sufficient  to  finish  it  ? 
Lest  haply,  after  he  hath  laid  the  foundation,  and  is  not  able  to 
finish  it,  all  that  behold  it  begin  to  mock  him,  saying.  This 
man  began  to  build,  and  was  not  able  to  finish.  Or  what  king, 
going  to  make  war  against  another  king,  sitteth  not  down  first, 
and  consulteth  whether  he  be  able  with  ten  thousand  to  meet 
him  that  cometh  against  him  with  twenty  thousand  ?  Or  else, 
while  the  other  is  yet  a  great  way  off,  he  sendeth  an  ambassage 
and  desircth  conditions  of  peace.  So,  likewise,  whosoever  he  be 
of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my 
disciple."  This  the  Lord  says  to  Peter,  who  so  often,  as  in  our 
text,  trusted  in  himself  to  a  degree  beyond  his  ability  for  execu- 
tion ;  this  He  says  also  to  the  countless  number  who  arc  like 
him.  Oh,  my  friends,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  step  into  the 
midst  of  the  confusion  of  this  time,  in  order  to  struggle  against 
it,  and  tread  with  firm  step  upon  a  ground  which  appears  to  shake 


THE   WALKING    ON    THE    WAVES.  363 

constantly  under  our  feet,  and  not  to  lose  the  path  where  all  is 
veiled  in  the  grey  cloud  ;  and  whoever  enters  upon  a  calling 
which  obliges  him  to  this  struggle,  or  whoever  is  otherwise  com- 
pelled freely  to  devote  his  activity  to  it,  let  him  consider  well 
what  he  undertakes,  and  whether  he  has  the  courage  and  the 
perseverance  to  carry  it  through  successfully.  Can  we  hide  from 
ourselves  the  fact,  that  our  time  is  productive  of  temptations,  to 
which  even  the  strong  succumb  ?  that  it  leads  the  bold  indi- 
vidual who  rushes  into  its  conflicts,  upon  smooth,  slippery  paths, 
where  it  appears  well-nigh  impossible  not  to  slide  and  fall,  and 
keep  himself  clean  from  all  wrong  and  sin  ?  that  it  places  him, 
as  it^were,  upon  the  heaving  waves  and  bids  him  there  stand 
firm  ?  x\nd  when  you  have  once  stepped  out  upon  the  wild  sea, 
for  the  purpose  of  helping  to  bind  and  rule  its  tumultuous  com- 
motion, and  you  then  see  the  storm  breaking  loose  and  the 
waves  tower  against  you,  will  not  anxiety  and  doubt  seize  upon 
your  soul,  will  not  your  faith  totter  and  fail  ?  And  then  just  as 
your  faith  vanishes,  you  will,  like  Peter,  begin  to  sink,  for  it 
was  Faith  alone  that  held  you  up  ;  with  him,  you  will  lose  all 
power,  and  the  whirlpool  of  a  selfish  chase,  ruled  by  folly  and 
passion,  will  draw  you  with  violence  into  its  horrible  circle,  that 
it  may  engulph  you  in  its  dark  depths. 

At  such  a  crisis  there  is  only  one  means  of  rescue  ;  it  is  that 
which  Peter  seized  upon.  When  he  began. to  sink,  he  cried: 
''Lord,  help  me!"  And  he  did  not  cry  in  vain.  Jesus  is 
already  by  the  side  of  the  sinking  one,  and  stretches  out  His 
hand  and  grasps  him,  and  punishes  his  weakness  only  with  the 
mild  reproof :  "  0  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou 
doubt  r 

Woe  to  those  who,  after  having  begun  in  faith  the  conflict 
with  the  rushing  stream  of  dominant  errors,  prejudices,  and  pas- 
sions, thereupon  lose  their  faith,  and  with  it  the  strength  of 
God,  and  then,  with  a  spirit  of  defiance,  continue  the  contest  in 
their  own  strength,  thus  trying  to  perfect  in  the  flesh  what  they 
have  begun  in  the  spirit.     Such  persons  continue  to  sink  deeper 


364.  JULIUS   MULLEE. 

and  deeper  in  guile  and  ambitious  scheming.  What  in  the  be- 
ginning was  God's  cause,  becomes  in  the  end  a  mere  thing  of  a 
party.  In  the  place  of  child-like,  trustful  simplicity,  there  enters 
worldly  calculation  and  cunning.  They  wear  the  armor  of  the 
ungodly,  and  contend  with  carnal  weapons,  and  eventually  be- 
come of  their  mind.  They  propose  to  overcome  evil  with  evil, 
and  are  thereupon  themselves  overcome  by  evil,  and  are  caught 
in  its  snares.  In  such  temptation  and  need,  let  us,  therefore, 
like  Peter,  fly  to  Jesus  for  refuge,  and  cry,  "  Lord,  help  me." 
Though  we  may  not  have  faith  enough  to  finish  that  great  strag- 
gle in  his  name,  yet,  let  there  never  be  wanting  that  small  mea- 
sure of  faith  which  will  enable  us,  in  our  embarrassment  and 
weakness,  to  seek  help  from  Him.  Let  us  entreat  Him  that  He 
would  draw  us  out  of  the  entanglements  in  v/hich  we  have  rashly 
involved  ourselves,  without  a  stain  upon  our  conscience  ;  and 
that  He  would  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted  beyond  our  ability, 
but  with  the  temptation  would  also  provide  a  way  of  escape. 
Let  us  pray  that  he  would  rescue  our  soul  from  death,  and  our 
foot  from  sliding  upon  the  tottering  path,  and  set  us  upon  a  rock, 
where  we  may  stand  in  safety. 

And,  surely,  if  we  pray  sincerely  we  shall,  with  the  disciple  of 
the  Lor.\  experience  that  He  is  near  to  all  "  that  call  upon  Him 
in  truth  ;"  that  He  lovingly  assists  the  weak,  and  despises  not 
the  anxious  cry  of  the  sinking.  If  we  trustfully  grasp  His  hand, 
and  (in  humility)  commit  ourselves  wholly  to  his  guidance,  ready 
to  sacrifice  every  gain,  to  suffer  every  disgrace,  if  only  we  can 
secure  His  approval,  I  say,  if  we  do  this.  He  will  open  ways  for 
us  through  the  raging  waves  of  temptation,  and  will  lead  us  out 
of  the  wild  tumult  upon  a  quiet  and  safe  path.  But  while  his 
help  does  not  fail  us,  He  yet  administers  to  us  His  mild  word  of 
rebuke  :  0  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  dost  thou  doubt  ? 
Wherefore  didst  thou  let  the  victory  slip  when  thou  already 
hadst  it  in  your  hand  ?  Would  not  a  firm  faith,  which  looks 
not  upon  the  storm  and  the  billows^  but  upon  God,  have  con- 
tinued to  keep  thee  erect,  as  heretofore,  in  the  struggle  ?  Would 


THE  WALKING  ON  THE  WAVES  365 

not  a  cliild-like  simplicity  of  heart  have  guarded  tliee  yet  longer 
from  sinking  into  the  sins  and  the  corruption  of  the  time  ?  No, 
it  was  not  that  the  temptations  were  not  too  great,  but  tliinc 
own  faith  was  too  small, 

AVith  the  humbled  and  rescued  Peter,  Christ  now  enters  the 
ship  where  the  other  disciples  are.  The  wind  lulls,  the  waves 
cease  to  roar  ;  upon  the  peaceful  surface  of  the  sea  the  boat 
glides  softly  and  swiftly  to  the  opposite  shore. 

Yes,  it  is  He  alone  who,  as  He  can  control  and  rule  in  the 
raging  sea  of  the  troubled  time,  can  also  quiet  the  very  storm 
itself  of  the  spiritual  life.  Upon  His  Gospel  and  its  divine  power, 
rests  all  hope  for  the  future.  If  rescue  does  not  come  from 
hence,  there  is  no  rescue  for  us  at  all.  If  faith  does  not  again 
wax  mighty  in  this  disordered  time — a  faith  which  can  quench 
the  consuming  fire  of  selfish  passion,  and  teach  us  to  honor  the 
will  and  the  word  of  God  above  everything  else,  then  truly  there 
is  no  help.  By  whatever  other  methods  men  may  seek  to  heal 
their  wounds,  if  these  methods  are  not  penetrated  by  the  power 
of  faith,  it  is  all  idle  delusion,  and  can  only  serve  to  bring  about 
the  deceptive  appearance  of  a  cure,  while  the  poison  of  the 
wound  corrodes  more  and  more  fatally  within.  Were  our  hopes 
resting  only  on  such  means  of  human  strength  and  prudence,  oh 
then,  indeed,  should  w^e  be  obliged  to  prepare  ourselves  for  the 
approaching  death-night  of  a  melancholy  bewilderment,  and  utter 
dissolution  of  all  human  relations  ;  and,  with  a  bleeding  heart, 
we  must  look  upon  the  dark  future  of  the  rising  generation. 

But  does  not  the  morning  dawn  upon  the  sea  of  Gennesarcth, 
which  bears  that  vessel  with.  Christ  and  his  disciples  ?  Comfort- 
ing picture  of  our  time  !  Yes,  it  is  the  grey  of  morning,  which 
appears,  however,  to  fearful,  anxious  souls,  as  the  twilight  of 
evening.  We  are  not  approaching  the  night,  but  the  day — a 
more  beautiful  day — where  living  faith  and  true  piety  shall  ngaiii 
thoroughly  penetrate  the  life  of  the  nations  ;  where,  after  having 
once  and  again  "  hewn  themselves  out  broken  cisterns  which  hold 
no  water,"  they  shall,  with  deeper  longing,  betake  themselves 


Sv6  JULIUS   MULLER. 

Qgain  to  the  fountain  from  which  stream  forth  the  waters  of 
everlasting  life. 

And  docs  it  not  begin  to  break  forth  ?  Do  you  not  see 
the  lofty  One,  walking  in  calm  majesty  over  the  lifted  waves, 
which  are  forced  to  crouch  at  his  feet  ?  Do  not  the  rays  of  the 
morning  red  shine  before  Him,  and  proclaim  the  advancing  con- 
quest of  his  heavenly  light  over  the  earthly  darkness  ?  Has  not 
his  Father  given  Hin^  a  great  multitude  as  his  portion,  and  the 
strong  as  his  spoil  ?  Has  He  not  become  too  powerful  for  thou- 
sands who  once  withstood  Him  ;  and  has  he  not  overcome  them 
by  his  love,  so  that  they  now  lie  at  his  feet,  and  know  no  higher 
glory  than  that  of  being  His  possession  ?  Ah,  will  not  many 
among  us,  who  now  withstand  Him,  one  day  also  bow  their  knees 
before  Him,  and  say  :  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast 
the  words  of  eternal  life,  and  we  believe  and  are  sure  that  Thou 
art  that  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God  !"  Yes,  as  there  in 
the  vessel,  when  He  entered  it  and  all  became  still,  the  men  fall 
before  Him  and  exclaim,  '•  Of  a  truth.  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God, 
so  will  we  worshipfully  bow  before  Him,  who  is  in  the  midst  of 
us,  where  -two  or  three  are  gathered  in  His  name." 

Of  a  truth.  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God,  0  Lord,  and  thy  Father 
hath  given  all  things  into  thy  hand — hath  called  the  whole 
human  race  to  become  thy  possession.  And  Thou  dost  pity  all, 
and  art  willing  to  be  the  helper  of  all  in  the  necessities  of  their 
earthly  life,  and  dost  kindly  call  every  one  of  us  to  Thee,  as 
Thou  didst  call  Peter.  Oh  that  we  may  willingly  obey  the  call 
of  Thy  love,  and  faithfully  continue  in  Thy  holy  communion. 
Then  will  the  storm  and  the  billows  not  terrify  us.  We  see 
Thee  walking  upon  the  boisterous  sea  of  our  agitated  time.  We 
follow  Thee  with  confident  courage,  and  if  we  sink,  and  cry  in 
distress,  "  Lord,  help  us  !"  then  dost  Thou  reach  forth  Thy  hand 
to  us,  thou  faithful  Saviour,  and  dost  rescue  us,  and  strengthen 
us  for  new  conflicts,  until  with  Thee  we  reach  the  safe  shore  of 
everlasting  peace,  when  for  us  the  day  breaks  to  which  no  night 
again  succeeds.     Amen 


DISCOURSE   XXL 

THE   RELATION    OF   RELIGION   TO   BUSINESS.* 

It  is  au  old  aud  famous  maxim,  my  beloved  friends,  that  the 
middle  way  is  the  best ;  a  maxim  to  which  the  higliest  value  is 
wont  to  be  ascribed,  not  only  in  the  business  of  life,  in  the  edu- 
cation of  youth,  and  in  the  government  of  nations,  but  in  refer- 
ence to  the  study  of  external  truth.  Nevertheless,  neither  the 
antiquity  nor  the  wide-spread  authority  of  this  principle  can 
blind  us  to  the  mournful  errors  into  which  it  misleads  us,  when 
we  come  to  make  it  universally  applicable.  To  be  sure,  it  com- 
mends itself  to  us  as  au  easy  and  convenient  procedure,  in  the 
strife  of  opposite  views  and  aims,  if  nothing  farther  were  needful 
for  us,  in  order  to  hit  upon  the  truth,  but  each  time  to  seek  out 
that  which  lies  in  the  middle,  between  the  contending  antagon- 
isms. But  how  does  the  ease  and  simplicity  of  this  procedure 
help  us,  if  its  result  is  still  so  unsafe  ?  For  can  we  conceal  from 
ourselves  the  fact,  that  among  men  not  always  one  one-sided 
principle  contends  with  another,  but  just  as  frequently  truth 
with  error,  good  with  evil  ?  When  the  word  of  eternal  truth — 
the  Gospel  of  Christ — was  still  obliged  to  contend  with  heathen 
delusion,  which  withstood  its  progress,  into  what  dark,  bottom- 
less depths  of  error  must  those  have  fallen,  who  sought  to  gain 
a  middle  ground  between  the  contending  powers,  wlio  ventured 

*  A  friend  and  admirer  of  Prof.  Muller,  not  connected  with  the  preparation  of  this 
volume,  kindly  furnished  the  translation  of  this  and  the  following  discourses, 

807 


S6S  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

apoii  tlie  mad  attempt  to  harmonize  and  reconcile  the  Gospel 
with  Idolatry  !  And  if  we  to-day,  as  at  all  times  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  see  on  the  one  side,  enthusiastic  zeal  for  the  king- 
dom of  God,  for  truth  and  righteousness,  on  the  other,  cold 
indifference,  or  even  embittered  hostility,  woe  to  us,  if  we  thinly 
that  we  must  place  ourselves  in  the  middle,  between  the  antago- 
nistic sentiments  and  endeavors.  For  that  crushing  word  of 
Christ  strikes  us  :  Alas,  that  you  are  neither  cold  nor  hot  ! 
"  Because  thou  art  lukewarm,  and  art  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will 
spue  thee  out  of  my  mouth." 

But  however  insufficient  that  principle  is  found  to  be,  when  it 
will  exalt  itself  as  a  universal  rule  for  ascertaining  right  and 
truth,  still  there  lies  indisputably  at  the  bottom  of  it  a  great 
truth.  For  how  do  those  errors  commonly  arise,  which,  with 
destructive  violence,  take  a  deep'  hold  of  the  whole  life,  and  by 
their  appearance  of  truth,  draw  countless  numbers  after  them  ? 
Is  it  not  in  this  way,  that  some  one-sided  notion  of  the  objects 
of  our  knowledge  passes  itself  as  complete,  and  excludes  every 
other  ;  that  an  isolated  thought  which  has  its  truth  in  its  con- 
nection with  others,  in  its  definite  place  in  a  great  circle  of 
thoughts,  breaks  loose  from  this  connection,  in  order  that  it  may 
alone  rule  the  soul,  so  that,  despising  every  limit,  with  vehe- 
mence it  pursues  the  single  tendency  to  the  extremest  point  ? 
Thus,  it  happens,  that  we  see,  everywhere  in  the  world,  antago- 
nistic one-sided  combatants  in  strife  with  one  another — opinions, 
feelings,  spiritual  tendencies,  of  which  the  one  is  just  as  far  aside 
from  the  right  and  the  true  as  the  other.  Here  the  Gospel 
points  us  to  the  true  medium  ;  but  not  in  this  way,  that  out  of 
the  antagonistic  deviations,  and  their  comparison  and  mutual 
approximation,  we  can  calculate  out  the  evangelical  truth  which 
is  between  them,  but  so  that  we  must  have  first  found  this  truth, 
in  order  to  recognize  these  deviations  as  such,  and  rightly  to 
estimate  them.  Therefore,  if  we  trust  with  sincere  confidence, 
to  the  guidance  of  the  Gospel,  it  leads  us  upon  the  narrow  but 
safe  path,  between  and  through  the  seductive  by-paths  at  the 


THE   RELATION    OF   RELIGION   TO   BUSINESS.  3G9 

rig-lit  and  the  left.  It  makes  kuowu  to  .us  the  couvineing 
truth  of  the  Christian  faith,  as  the  medium  betvvecu  unbelief 
and  superstition  ;  it  guides  us  on  to  the  mild  earnestness  of 
Christian  holiness,  as  the  medium  between  a  light,  frivolous, 
worldly  temper,  and  a  dark,  world-despising  severity.  And  as 
in  the  general  course  of  life,  so  the  more  our  heart  is  penetrated 
by  the  power  of  the  divine  word,  the  more  we  live  and  move  in 
it,  so  much  the  more  does  the  Gospel  manifest  itself  in  the 
special  relations  of  life,  so  that  the  Gospel  everywhere  places  its 
true  adherents  in  the  middle  between  antagonistic  errors.  May 
our  meditation  to-day,  from  a  particular  point  of  view,  contribute 
to  strengthen  and  confirm  us  anew  in  thi.^  conviction. 

"  Now  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  went,  that  he  entered  into  a  certaui  village  :  and  a  cer- 
tain woman  named  Martha,  received  him  into  her  house.  And  she  had  a  sister  called 
Mary,  which  also  sat  at  Jesus'  feet,  land  heard  his  word :  But  Martha  was  cumbered 
about  much  serving,  and  came  to  him,  and  said,  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that  my  sister 
hath  left  me  to  serve  alone?  Bid  her,  therefore,  tliat  she  help  me.  And  Jesus  answered, 
and  said  unto  her,  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art  careful,  and  troubled  about  many  things. 
But  one  thing  is  needful,  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken 
away  from  her." — Luke  x.  38^2. 

It  is  a  very  simple  event  which  the  Evangelist  narrates  to  us 
in  our  text,  so  simple  that  one  might  almost  doubt  whether  it 
were  worthy  to  be  preserved  among  so  weighty  discourses  and 
transactions.  What  passes  between  the  sisters,  in  a  similar  way 
often  occurs  in  domestic  life.  The  thought,  too,  which  the  Lord 
expresses  in  connection,  in  its  great  simplicity,  appears  to  us  to 
offer  no  material  for  varied  discussion.  But  as  nothing  is  of 
trifling  value  to  Christian  souls,  which  affords  them  a  glance 
into  the  mind  of  their  Lord,  as  in  nearness  to  the  Son  of  God 
the  apparently  insignificant  becomes  significant,  so,  then,  are 
here  very  important  lessons  which  our  text  presents  to  us,  in  the 
conduct  of  the  sisters,  in  the  discourse  of  the  Lord,  as  in  His 
previous  silence — instructions  upon  the  true  relation  of  the 

ASPIRATION    AFTER    HEAVENLY    THINGS    TO    OUR    EARTHLY    BUSINESS. 

These   instructions,  let  us   then,  in   this    hour  consecrated  to 
devotion,  farther  consider  with  one  another  ;   and  follow  tlie 


370  JULIUS    MULLEE. 

course  which  is  taken  by  the  narrative  of  the  Evangelist  in  our 
tej^t. 

Well  known  to  us  is  the  house  into  which  the  narrative  of  the 
Evangelist  conducts  us — the  house  of  the  brother  and  sisters, 
Lazarus,  Martha,  and  Mary,  into  whose  trusty  circle  our  Lord 
so  loved  to  retire,  when  the  bitter  hate  of  His  enemies  grieved 
Him,  and  their  persecution  pressed  Him.  So  we  do  not  first 
learn  the  different  tempers  of  heart  of  that  sisterly  pair  which 
receives  the  Lord,  in  our  text,  out  of  this  description  ;  it  only 
completes  the  picture  which  is  sketched  by  some  other  narratives 
where  we  see  them  act.  Martha  we  know  as  one  of  those  pecu- 
liar, strong  characters  which  appear  to  be  destined  for  a  restless 
activity  and  employment  in  outward  life.  Still,  lonely  contempla- 
tion, continuous  thought,  are  not  for  her.  Quick,  often  somewhat 
precipitate,  the  thought  ripens  into  the  word,  the  resolve  into 
the  act ;  and  every  impulse,  every  impression  which  she  receives 
from  without  at  once  becomes  for  her  a  stimulus  to  react  upon 
the  outward  world.  Mary,  on  the  contrary,  seems  to  us  to  be 
one  of  those  lovely  souls  which  hide  in  themselves  a  rich,  inner 
world,  with  which  they  love  to  busy  themselves  in  still  thought, 
and  for  which  they  seek  to  gain  a  new  enrichment  by  every 
contact  with  the  outward  world.  If  their  knowledge  is  of  narrow 
compass,  its  connections  are  still  closer  ;  are  they  sparing  of 
words,  yet  their  whole  nature  expresses  deep,  strong  feeling  ; 
are  they  slow,  unskillful  in  action,  yet  there  manifests  itself  in 
their  actions  tliat  thoughtful  earnestness,  which  often  exerts  the 
greatest  power  over  other  souls,  without  themselves  being  con- 
scious of  it. 

Out  of  these  diverse  tempers  of  the  sisters,  arises  the  great 
difference  in  their  deportment  with  reference  to  Christ,  a,s  our 
text  pictures  it  for  us.  Martha  only  thinks  how,  as  a  hostess, 
she  can  best  entertain  the  worthy  guest,  the  revered  prophet 
from  Nazareth.  Therefore  "  she  was  cumbered  about  much 
serving  "  him  ;  busily  she  hurries  hither  and  thither,  to  care  for 
everything  needful,  and  if  she  soraotimcB  hearkens  to  the  discourse 


THE   RELATION    OF   llELIGION   TO   BUSINESS.  371 

of  the  Master,  this  liappeiis,  certainly,  only  as  slio  is  liurrviii:;- 
b}'.  Quite  otherwise  Mary.  Hardly  has  she  heard  that  tiie 
Lord  is  disposed  to  teaeli,  when  she  is  ah-eady  sitting  at  his  feet 
and  listening  to  His  words.  Shj  knows  well  that  lie  has  not 
come  that  He  may  be  sumptuously  entertained,  that  it  is  His 
food  to  do  the  will  of  His  Father,  and  to  finish  His  work,  llavo 
she  forgets  the  earthy  cares  and  business,  the  outward  world  is 
for  her  vanished,  her  whole  soul  sinks  itself  into  the  unfathom- 
able depths  of  divine  grace  and  wisdom,  which  the  word  of  tho 
Master  opens  for  her.  For  of  this,  the  connection  of  the  events 
leaves  no  doubt  ;  not  of  earthly  but  of  heavenly  things,  did 
Christ  speak  to  Mary,  of  the  holy  will  of  His  Father,  of  His 
immeasurable  love,  which  sent  the  Son  for  the  redemption  of 
sinful  men,  of  the  new  kingdom  which  He  has  come  to  found 
upon  the  earth,  and  of  the  imperishable  glory  which  shall  one 
day  be  the  portion  of  the  citizens  of  this  kingdom. 

But  what  says  Christ  to  this  different  deportment  of  the  sis- 
ters ?  Does  he  blame  Martha's  earthly  activity  ?  Does  he  bid 
her  do  as  Mary  does  ?  No,  my  friends  ;  of  this  the  Evangelist 
says  not  a  w^ord.  Nothing  entitles  us  to  believe  that  the  Saviour 
expressed  disapproval  and  dissatisfaction  with  Martha.  Yea, 
we  may  decidedly  assert  that  He  did  not  ;  otiierwise  Martha 
could  not  afterwards  have  claimed  His  help  against  the,  accord- 
ing to  her  judgment,  inactive  sister.  And  what  could  have 
prompted  the  Lord  to  reprove  her  ?  That  she  was  so  vigorous 
and  indefatigable  in  her  earthly  business,  can,  in  His  eyes,  only 
have  redounded  to  her  honor  ;  with  approval,  he  looks  upon  her 
industrious  activity  ;  for  he  perceives  in  her  action,  a  well-mean- 
ing, loving  heart,  an  honest  endeavor  to  do  something  agreeable 
to  Him.  As  love  sanctifies  everything  that  it  touches,  so  it 
lends  to  this  domestic  industry  a  higher  sacredness  and  signifi- 
cance. What  prevents  Martha  from  sitting,  like  her  sister,  at 
the  feet  of  the  Redeemer  is  surely  not  a  contemptuous  indiffer- 
ence to  the  word  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  but  zeal  to  honor  the 
lofty  guest.     And  if,  besides,  her  whole  nature  was  disposed  to 


372  JULIUS    MULLER. 

this  restless  industry,  shall  we  not  have  confidence  in  the  friend 
of  Jesus,  and  believe  that  in  her  soul,  in  the  midst  of  outward 
activity,  so  many  a  divine  thought  dwelt,  that  often  the  heart 
prayed,  while  the  hand  labored  ?  Oh,  surely,  with  a  mild,  kind 
look  the  Lord  followed  Martha,  in  her  busy  employment. 

So  He  looks,  who  is  with  His  church  always,  until  the  end  of 
the  world.  He  looks  to-day  with  approval,  when  his  disciples 
are  unweariedly  active  in  their  earthly  calling.  For  he  is  not 
come  to  disturb  and  destroy  the  earthly  life,  in  its  natural  rela- 
tions, but  to  ennoble  and  to  perfect.  The  activity  of  men  in  so 
far  as  it  aims  to  improve  as  much  as  possible,  their  outward  con- 
dition, to  give  their  earthly  existence,  in  all  its  directions,  more 
proportionate  and  graceful  forms  ;  their  endeavor  to  subject 
the  outward  world  to  themselves,  and  to  stamp  upon  it,  every- 
where, the  impress  of  the  human  mind,  which  is  called  to  the 
dominion  of  nature, — all  this  Christ  will  not  destroy,  but  con- 
firm. Far  from  us  be  the  thought,  that  His  redemption  work  is 
to  place  itself  in  any  contradiction  with  the  work  of  creation, 
in  which  His  Father  endowed  man  with  many  gifts  and  powers, 
and  together  with  the  gifts  and  powers,  has  implanted  the  im- 
pulse to  put  them  into  their  appropriate  activity.  Rather  will 
the  Redeemer  cherish,  sanctify,  ennoble  human  activity  in  the 
improvement  of  the  earthly  life,  while  he  purifies  it  from  the 
displacing,  obstructing  influences  of  sin,  while  that  to  which  a 
natural  impulse  incites  us,  which  an  outward  necessity  commands 
us,  he  exalts  to  a  duty  of  obedience  and  of  love  to  God,  and 
so  communicates  to  it  a  higher  meaning,  and  a  new,  a  deeper 
motive. 

And  does  not  the  whole  history  of  the  human  race,  since  the 
coming  of  the  Son  of  God  in  the  flesh,  testify  most  decidedly, 
that  from  Christianity  a  power  went  forth,  to  form  the  earthly 
side,  also,  of  human  life,  according  to  the  most  varied  tendencies, 
in  a  peculiar  way  ;  that  the  Gospel  became  for  the  human  mind 
a  mightier  spur  to  fresh  activity,  to  erect  over  the  ruins  of  the 
ancient  world,  a  new,  ma-gnificent  edifice  ?     The  whole  culture 


THE   RELATION   OF   RELIGION   TO   BUSINESS.  373 

of  the  modern  times,  what  it  lias  brought  forth  in  science  and 
art,  in  the  wide  circle  of  the  state,  as  well  as  in  the  narrow 
circle  of  family  life — has  it  not  its  deepest  roots  in  Christianity, 
even  though  it  will  not  itself  be  conscious  of  it,  and  even  though 
it  may  be  immeasurably  far  from  being  completely  penetrated 
by  the  Christian  spirit  ? 

It  is  the  nature  of  all  Fanaticism  to  fancy  the  earthly  and  the 
heavenly,  as  in  necessary  antagonism,  and  just  for  this  reason 
can  its  workings  be  not  olherwise  than  destructive.  In  dark, 
morose  feeling,  or  in  gloomy,  anxious,  shyness,  it  turns  away 
from  the  rich  world,  as  if  it  were  not  God's  creation,  but  the 
devil's  work,  as  if  all  its  charm,  all  its  beauty  were  only  hellish 
enticement.  To  attain  to  eternal  life,  it  thinks  it  necessary  to 
renounce  the  stirring  activity  of  temporal  life  ;  to  give  place  for 
the  working  of  divine  Grace  in  the  soul,  it  seeks  to  annihilatr 
all  the  feelings  of  human  nature  ;  to  behold  the  heavenly,  it 
will  entirely  close  the  eye  to  the  earthly.  It  will  become  acquaint- 
ed with  the  shining  and  warming  strength  of  the  sun  ;  but  it 
regards  not  its  workings  upon  earthly  objects,  which  are  enlight- 
ened and  warmed  by  it,  but  stares  fixedly  at  its  light,  till  at 
length  the  eye  of  the  soul  is  blinded. 

But  is  this  not  the  reproach  which  touches  the  second  of  this 
sisterly  pair,  Mary  ?  Is  she  not  one  of  the  souls  which,  in  the 
consideration  of  heavenly  things,  forget  and  neglect  activity  in  the 
earthly  ?  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  these  calm,  thoughtful 
souls,  easier  than  others,  fall  into  this  error.  Perhaps  Mary, 
too,  has  sometimes  been  obliged  to  struggle  with  the  temptation 
to  yield  herself,  in  a  too  great  degree,  to  inactive  contemplation. 
But  if  she  had  succumbed  to  this  temptation,  if  that  morbid 
disinclination  to  earthly  activity  had  really  overmastered  her 
soul,  would  not  Christ,  who  knew  well  what  was  in  man,  have 
warned  her  with  emphasis  and  earnestness  ?  Would  He  have 
allowed  that  Mary,  following  a  perverted  inclination,  should 
place  herself  at  His  feet  ?  Or  was  His  strong,  holy,  love  to  men 
like  our  love,  which  is  often  too  weak  and  too  unholy  to  be  able, 


374  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

by  the  severe  truth,  to  give  tlie  loved  oue,  even  when  his  soul's 
j^ood  requires  it?  No,  my  hearers,  if  Christ  sufifered  Mary, 
putting'  everything  aside,  to  listen  to  his  teaching — what  do  I 
say,  suffered  ? — if  He  expressly  praised  her  choice,  it  v/as  surely 
free  from  every  fanatical  perverseness  ;  and  if  Mary  heard  His 
word  witli  devotion,  and  i3reserved  it  in  her  fine,  good  iieart, 
that  word,  in  turn,  must  have  preserved  her  from  such  error. 
Did  He  who  had  the  words  of  eternal  life,  appear  in  her  house, 
then  she  had  indeed  nothing  more  pressing  to  do  than  to  listen 
to  Him  ;  but  we  may  not  doubt,  but  that  when  refreshed  by  a 
deep  draught  from  the  fountain  of  living  water,  she  again  returned 
with  renewed  zeal,  and  with  redoubled  love  and  fidelity,  to  her 
daily  work,  and  to  its  only  apparently  unimportant  labors  and 
business. 

No,  not  Mary,  but  Martha  it  is,  who  mistakes  and  disturbs 
the  true,  divinely-pleasing  relation  between  the  care  for  heavenly 
things  and  earthly  business.  It  is  she,  who  for  the  moment 
wanders  from  the  right  way,  not  indeed  into  fanaticism,  but  into 
the  opposite  by-path,  into  a  culpable  subordination  of  the  hea- 
venly to  the  earthly.  And  is  it  not  just  this  danger  which 
chiefly  threatens  those  souls  which  are  inclined  to  unremitting 
outward  activity  ?  Is  it  not  this  danger  in  which  the  faith  of  so 
many,  yet  in  the  germ,  has  perished,  choked  by  earthly  cares  ? 
In  the  beginning,  we  may  believe,  Martha  conceived  of  her 
household  management  in  its  right  relation  to  the  higher  aspira- 
tion after  eternal  good.  But,  as  it  often  happens,  in  busy  em- 
ployment itself,  she  loses  the  measure  for  judging  it.  Outward 
business  and  its  aims  appear  to  her  more  and  more,  as  properly 
the  principal  thing.  Her  mind  is  taken  captive  by  them,  instead 
of  mastering  them  ;  the  labor  appears  ever  to  grow,  the  more 
hastily  and  unquietly  she  carries  it  on  ;  she  thinks  that  she  can- 
not alone  be  done  with  it  ;  vexation  awakes  in  her  heart  that 
her  sister  is  not  busy  with  her  ;  it  is  to  her  inconceivable  how 
her  Master  can  suffer  it  ;  finally,  she  cannot  longer  restrain  her- 
self—not without  an  expression   of  displeasure,  however  much 


THE   RELATION    OF   RELIGION   TO    BUSINESS.  375 

we  may  imagine  it  to  have  been  softened  by  the  tone  of  tho 
voice,  she  turns  complainingly  to  tlie  Lord  :  "  Lord  dost  thou 
not  care  that  my  sister  hath  left  me  to  serve  alone  ?  bid  her 
therefore  that  she  help  me." 

Poor  Martha  I  How  quickly  have  eartJily  cares  succeeded  in 
obscuring  her  eye,  and  making  her  forget  that  there  is  something 
that  is  much  weio-htier  than  the  transient  thino^s  with  which  she 
has  to  do.  Listead  of  subordinating  to  this  one  thing,  all 
earthly  business  and  efforts,  that  they  by  means  of  this  subordi- 
nation may  be  sanctified,  she  lets  herself  be  misled  into  giving 
to  them  her  soul,  as  a  complete  possession.  Yea,  more  :  instead 
of  modestly  recognizing  and  honoring  the  tender  feeling  of  her 
sister,  the  more  hearty  expressions  of  her  glowing  love  to  the 
Lord  and  to  the  word  of  life,  she  becomes  impatient  towards 
Mary,  and  will  force  upon  her  her  own  way  of  feeling  and  of 
acting.  Hardly  has  passionate  disorder  won  a  place  in  her  soul, 
when  it  loses  the  modest  consciousness  of  its  proper  restriction 
and  seeks  to  exalt  its  ways  for  a  universal  touchstone  and  for  an 
imperative  pattern  for  others. 

But  He  to  whom  she  has  brought  her  unseemly  complaint, 
checks  the  serious  fault  at  the  right  time  with  soft  but  earnest 
correction:  "Martha,  Martha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled 
about  many  things,  but  one  thing  is  needful  !  Let  us  carefully 
observe,  ray  friends,  what  sort  of  conduct  it  is  which  the  Lord 
censures  in  these  words.  Is  it  the  being  busy  with  earthly 
things,  in  general  ?  or  busy  industry  in  this  employment  ?  Not 
at  all,  but  only  the  passionate  disorder  and  error  of  the  soul,  to 
which  Martha  has  allowed  herself,  by  this  means,  to  be  hurried 
away.  More  clearly  and  definitely  than  in  our  translation  this 
is  expressed  by  the  original  text :  "  Many  are  the  things,"  says 
Christ,  reprovingly,  "  which  put  you  into  anxious  care  and  tumultu- 
ous excitement."  That  her  soul  was  so  wholly  possessed  by  the 
busy  stir  of  earthly  things,  that  it  would  perceive  nothing  higher 
— nothing  more  important — this  it  is  in  Martha  that  displeased 
the  Lord  ;  this  it  is  which  displeases  him  to-day  in  his  disciples 


376  JULIUS    MULLER. 

who  allow  themselves  to  be  so  often  carried  away  by  the  error  of 
Martha.  This  it  is  which  separates  a  countless  number  from  him, 
all  those  who  in  this  transient  state  of  Martha's  heart  behold  the 
picture  of  their  whole  life.  Does  your  soul  regard  earthly  things 
as  the  highest,  and  the  business  which  relates  to  them  as  your 
weightiest  employment  ?  Then  is  your  soul  like  the  waves  of  the 
sea  which  are  driven  and  blown  by  the  wind  ;  it  is  given  up  to 
eternal  disquiet  and  transient  change.  For  manifold  and  varied 
are  earthly  things,  and  whoever  gives  himself  up  to  their  dominion 
— his  soul  is  dragged  hither  and  thither,  in  all  directions,  by  hope 
and  fear — by  joy  and  sorrow — by  desire  for  gain  and  by  pain  at 
loss.  And  how  should  the  grace  of  the  Lord  and  his  peace 
make  their  dwelling  in  such  a  disturbed  soul  ?  0  my  friends, 
whatever  earthly  calling  may  be  allotted  to  us — however  spirit- 
ual in  its  functions — however  blessed  in  its  effects,  if  its  employ- 
ments drive  us  forwards  in  breathless  haste  upon  life's  path — if 
we  think  that  we  can  find  no  more  time,  sometimes  to  stand 
still  and  to  think  where  we  are  and  whither  we  will  go,  and 
to  reflect  on  the  heavenly  and  eternal  concerns  of  our  immortal 
soul — if  prayer  has  lost  its  power  and  the  divine  word  its  charm 
for  us,  then  we  have  cast  away  our  life  upon  a  fearful  error — 
upon  a  fleeting  dream  ;  then  are  we  with  all  our  apparent  rich- 
ness in  bodily  and  spiritual  goods,  really  poor,  very  j^oor.  We 
have,  like  Martha,  much  care  and  trouble,  but  the  highest  good 
which  alone  gives  to  our  life  its  worth  and  significance,  is  want- 
ing. 

One  thing  is  needful !  Only  one  does  Christ  recognize  as  re 
ally  essential,  as  the  highest  and  most  pressing  necessity,  and  that 
is  the  seeking  for  the  kingdom  of  God  and  its  righteousness,  the 
endeavor  to  gain  the  grace  and  the  approbation  of  the  Heavenly 
Father.  This  is  the  precious  pearl  which  a  merchant  found,  and 
"  went  and  sold  all  that  he  had  and  bought  it."  This  is  the 
heavenly  and  eternal  good,  which  we  should  seek  with  the  entire 
devotion  of  our  soul,  with  the  resolute  subordination,  day  by 
day,  of  things  earthly  to  things  heavenly.     The  time  is  short. 


THE    RELATION   OF   RELIGION   TO   BUSINESS.  377 

Therefore,  those  who  weep  should  be  "as  tlioiigh  they  wept 
not  ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not  ;  and 
they  that  buy,  as  tliough  they  possessed  not  ;  and  they  that  use 
this  world,  as  not  abusing  it ;  for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passcth 
away."  Whoever  will  be  a  disciple  of  Christ,  ought  not  to  forget 
that  here  upon  the  earth  he  is  a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim  ;  for  as 
our  Lord  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  so  his  friends  here 
"  have  no  continuing  city,  but  seek  one  to  come." 

One  thing  is  needful.  If  earthly  things,  which  are  infinitely 
various,  and  stand  in  manifold  contrasts  with  one  another,  involve 
the  soul  that  passionately  clings  to  them,  in  a  confused,  restless 
chase,  heavenly  things,  on  the  contrary,  are  harmonious  in  holy 
unison,  and  alone  able  to  bring  true  unity  and  abiding  peace  into 
the  life  of  him  who  devotes  himself  to  them  with  his  whole 
soul.  The  discord  in  which  the  changing  and  contradictory 
impressions  of  the  outward  world  involve  us — this  the  one 
thing  that  is  needful  is  able  to  end.  The  wounds  which 
the  earthly  life  inflicts  upon  us — this  one  thing  is  able  to  heal 
them. 

One  thing  is  needful.  Oh  that  no  one  among  us  would 
neglect  that  earnestly  warning,  that  kindly  alluring  word  of  the 
Lord  !  That  as  the  sunbeam  penetrates  the  icy  surface  of  the 
ground,  and  in  the  depths  wakes  a  new  life — that  with  the  same 
power,  this  word  would  melt,  and  penetrate  to  its  innermost 
depths  the  hard  crust  with  which  the  long  habit,  perhaps,  of 
chasing  after  merely  earthly  goods  has  invested  the  heart — 
might  penetrate,  and  so  waken  that  hidden  longing  for  the  hea- 
venly, which  often  sleeps,  to  be  sure,  but  only  seldom  wholly 
dies  out !  That  this  word,  too,  would  sound  m  our  soul  when 
the  distractions  and  pleasures  of  sensuous  life  would  take  pos- 
session of  our  heart !  That  this  warning  voice  of  the  true 
Shepherd  would  keep  us  in  the  hour  of  temptation,  when  we  are 
on  the  point  of  yielding  to  sin  I  That  it  would  rouse  us  when 
sin  has  succeeded  in  lulling  us  into  that  secure  sleep,  from  which 
a  too  late  awaking  will  be  terrible. 


3TS  JULIUS   MiJLLEE. 

Yet,  not  \^ith  a  depressing  menace  sliould  our  meditation 
conclude.  Tiie  last  word  of  the  Lord  contains  a  joyful,  elevat- 
ing promise.  "  Mary,"  He  says,  "  has  chosen  that  good  part 
that  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her."  According  to  its 
nearest  reference,  this  word  of  the  Lord  teaches  us  that  Mary 
acted  in  a  praiseworthy  manner,  when  she  preferred  to  place 
herself  at  the  feet  of  the  Redeemer,  in  order  to  listen  to  His 
discourse,  and  that  the  remonstrance  of  her  sister  should  not  rob 
her  of  the  present  possession  of  this  fortune.  But  through  this 
meaning,  this  word  lets  us  into  a  deeper  and  more  comprehen- 
sive sense,  which  intimates  that  the  heavenly  good  that  Mary 
chose,  is  of  eternal  continuance,  and  affords  its  possessor  an 
imperishable  blessedness,  which  no  power  of  the  world  can  tear 
away  from  her. 

This  divine  promise — -it  is  also  given  to  us,  my  friends.  If  we, 
like  Mary,  seek  what  is  above,  where  Christ  sits  at  the  right 
hand  of  God,  and  lay  up  for  ourselves  treasures  in  heaven  which 
moth  and  rust  cannot  corrupt,  and  thieves  cannot  break  through 
and  steal  ;  if  we,  like  her,  hear  the  word  of  everlasting  life  with 
e^erness,  and  keep  it  in  a  refined,  good  heart,  "  and  bring  forth 
fruit  with  patience  ;"  if  trust  in  God  through  Christ,  and 
love  to  God  and  obedience  to  God  have  become  for  us  the 
inmost  and  most  powerful  motives  to  a  faithful  and  assiduous 
fulfillment  of  our  earthly  calling — then  in  our  life  the  right, 
divinely-approved  relation  between  the  aspiration  after  heavenly 
good  and  our  earthly  business,  is  restored  ;  then  have  we  chosen 
the  good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  us.  Misfortunes 
and  sickness,  the  caprice  of  the  mighty,  and  the  secret  arts  of 
cowardly  antagonists,  the  enemy's  violence  and  the  friend's 
treachery,  they  caii  tear  from  us  all  our  earthly  possessions — 
what  is  safe  in  this  stormy  time? — but  of  the  highest  good  they 
cannot  rob  us  ;  hardly  can  they  disturb  us  in  its  enjoyment. 
The  all-subduing  power  of  death,  which  tears  from  our  arms  tlie 
dearest  friends,  and  to  which  our  own  earthly  life,  sooner  or  later, 
must  yield — this  power  finds  here  its  master.     In  death,  even, 


THE   RELATION    OF    RELIGION   TO    BUSINESS.  379 

the  good  part  remains  to  us,  aud  accompanies  us  through  death 
into  immortal  life,  only  there  to  manifest  in  us  its  blessed  power 
and  glory.         ***** 

Contemplative  souls  like  Mary,  may  also,  like  her,  find  their 
highest  pleasures  at  times,  in  penetrating  in  quiet  reflection 
into  the  unfathomable  depths  of  the  will  and  the  grace  of 
God  ;  but  let  them,  like  Mary,  avoid  the  by-path  of  fana- 
tical inactivity  ;  let  them  never  forget  that  these  beautiful, 
festal  hours  of  still  contemplation,  become  a  selfish  enjoyment 
when  they  do  not  serve  to  strengthen  them  for  active  life,  to 
inspire  them  to  fulfill,  more  and  more  faithfully,  their  earthly 
calling.  Those  souls,  however,  who,  like  Martha,  never  enjoy 
life,  and  are  never  in  their  element  if  they  cannot  work  and 
manage  in  vigorous  activity,  need  not  relieve  themselves  of  their 
unwearied  labor  in  outward  life;  but  let  the  consciousness  every- 
where accompany  them  which  Martha,  indeed,  lost  only  for  the 
moment — that  they  walk  before  God's  countenance  ;  let  them 
studiously  nourish  and  strengthen  this  consciousness  out  of  the 
living  fountain,  in  earnest,  holy  contemplation,  that  their 
activity  may  neither  be  perverted  into  an  empty  superficial,  nor 
into  an  unquiet  and  passionate  pursuit.  And  if  they  have  become 
weak,  and,  troubling  and  impeding  themselves  and  others  have 
gone  out  of  the  right  path,  let  then  the  word  of  the  Lord, 
"  One  thing  is  needful !"  lead  them  back  again,  as  easily  as  it 
did  Martha,  into  their  original  place,  and  to  the  divinely- 
approved  order  of  their  life.     Amen. 


DISCOURSE  XXII. 

THE    LONGING    FOR    HOME. 

You  are  familiar,  my  friends,  with  that  singular  longing  which 
sometimes  strongly  seizes  the  mind  of  a  man,  especially  in  the 
period  of  youth,  and  strangely  affects  his  feelings.  Human 
situations  and  circumstances  float  before  him,  such  as  he 
is,  perhaps  not  able  himself  very  nearly  to  describe,  but 
which  concerning  he  can  say  this,  that  they  are  much  more 
beautiful  and  perfect  than  all  that  he  can  see  around  him, 
or  all  that  his  previous  experience  has  shown  him.  All  the 
circumstances  there,  are  noble  and  magnificent.  He  sees  lofty 
forms  walk  before  him,  and  a  magical  radiance  rests  upon  them. 
Untroubled  bhss,  deep  satisfaction,  beckon  the  longing  youth, 
and  in  unchecked  activity  he  is  to  reveal  the  strength  and  full- 
ness of  his  soul.  This  longing  sets  him  whom  it  possesses  at 
variance  with  the  outward  life,  which  then  appears  to  him  poor 
and  colorless.  He  would  re-make  it  according  to  his  own  ideas  ; 
but  because  he  does  not  succeed  in  this,  he  turns  away  from  it, 
discontented  and  impatient.  All  activity  in  it  is  repulsive  to 
him.  As  often  as  he  can,  he  retreats  thoughtfully  into  the  still 
world  of  his  dreams  and  fancies. 

Men  blame  the  mind  that  weakly  gives  up  to  this  longing  ;  and 
surely  with  justice.  They  warn  the  youth  to  repress  this  ex- 
aggerated, dreamy  feeling — to  content  himself  with  the  actual 
world,  as  it  now  is — to  build  up  for  himself  in  it,  as  well  as  he 

8S0 


THE   LONGING    FOR   HOME.  381 

can,  his  life's  fortune,  and,  at  the  same  time,  make  himself  as  use- 
ful as  possible  to  others.  But  this  counsel  evideutly  is  easier  given 
than  followed.  Besides,  one  hardly  finds  much  heed  among 
those  whom  this  longing  has  once  possessed.  Yea,  the  most 
promising  among  the  youthful  minds  will  generally  contend  most 
decidedly  against  the  view  of  human  life  which  lies  at  the  basis 
of  this  advice.  They  do  not  willingly  submit  to  come  down  to 
the  cold  wisdom,  which  once  for  all  renounces  everything 
higher,  and  more  perfect,  and  only  finds  itself  at  home  in  the  nar- 
row limits  and  poverty  of  common  life.  They  think  that  with 
their  longing  after  something  unconditioned  and  perfect  in  life, 
they  stand  higher  than  those  moderate  persons  by  whom  they 
are  pitied  as  visionaries.  Yea,  they  boast  of  having  on  their 
side  the  most  glorious,  the  most  eminent  minds  of  all  times. 
Ever,  they  say,  has  the  mainspring  of  their  immortal  deeds,  the 
fountain  of  their  lofty  works,  been  a  great,  bold  thought,  which 
appeared  to  common-place  men  only  as  the  fruit  of  a  foolish  ex- 
travagance— the  enthusiastic  striving  after  some  high  goal, 
whose  attainment  these  held  to  be  absolutely  impossible. 

We  shall  not  here  enter  into  this  dispute  for  the  purpose  of 
accurately  dividing  the  right  from  the  wrong  on  both  sides ;  but 
so  much  is  certain,  that  is  a  perverse  beginning,  to  repress  that 
dim  longing,  instead  of  giving  to  it  the  right  object ;  to  de- 
stroy this  obscure  and  indefinite  seeking  and  striving,  instead  of 
guiding  it  to  an  understanding  of  itself,  and  leading  it  to  its  true 
goal.  One  should  show  such  souls  that  what  they  seek  is  pro- 
perly the  full  revlation  of  eternal  life.  For  in  this  alone,  will  all 
human  life  appear  in  its  true,  pure,  godlike  form.  In  it  alone, 
will  all  our  longing  and  aspiring  find  their  perfect  satisfaction. 
Not  upon  the  earth,  but  in  hea,ven,  is  our  home,  and  therefore 
is  man  here  a  creature  who  seeks.  He  finds  no  rest,  so  long  as 
be  knows  not  the  heavenly  home,  and  even  when  he  has  become 
acquainted  with  it,  his  longing  is  not  yet  stilled,  since  the  full 
possession  of  the  heavenly  inheritance  is  still  iu  the  future.  Let 
us  linger  by  this  truth  in  our  meditation  to-day. 


352  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

"  Therefore  we  are  always  confident,  knowing  that  whilst  we  are  at  home  in  the  body, 
we  are  absent  from  the  Lord.  For  we  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight.  We  are  confident, 
I  say,  and  willing  rather  to  be  absent  from  the  body,  and  to  be  present  with  the  Lord. 
Wherefore  we  labor,  that  whether  present  or  absent,  we  may  be  accepted  of  him."  2  Cor. 
V.  6-9. 

With  simple  and  touching*  words  the  Apostle,  in  our  text,  ex- 
presses his  longing*  for  the  Christian's  heavenly  home.  He  re- 
gards, however,  this  longing  in  no  wise  as  anything  peculiar  to 
himself,  but  speaks  of  it  as  a  universal  attribute  of  the  Christian 
life.  In  this  he  not  the  less  testifies  from  his  own  experience, 
though  in  the  name  of  all  true  Christians,  to  the  salutary  influ- 
ence of  this  longing,  to  its  consoling  and  cheering  power.  From 
these  two  points  of  view  then,  let  the  longing  for  Home  be  the 
subject  of  our  meditation.  V/'hen  we  have  first  perceived  the 
necessary  place  of  this  longing  in  the  inner  life  of  the  Christian, 
it  will  not  be  difiBcult  to  persuade  ourselves  of  its  salutary  influ- 
ence. 

I,  That  the  longing  for  home  belongs  essentially  to  the  Chris- 
tian life,  is,  my  brethren,  by  no  means  so  universally  acknow- 
ledged, as  would  be  expected  by  a  pious  soul  which,  unconcerned 
in  the  strife  of  opinions,  is  endeavoring  to  shape  its  inner  life  ac- 
cording to  the  directions  of  the  Bible.  Voices,  louder  and 
bolder  than  ever,  are  lifted  up  in  our  times,  which  dispute  the 
right  of  the  longing,  and  the  hope  from  which  it  springs  and 
with  which  it  is  inseparably  connected,  to  a  place  in  the  harmo- 
nious connection  of  the  inner  Christian  life.  "  To  afford  full  satis- 
faction in  the  complete  knowledge  of  God,"  we  hear  it  said,  "  is 
the  essential  design  of  Christianity."  "  In  Christianity,  the  Diviae 
has  appeared  in  time,  and  the  soul  breaks  through,  even  now, 
this  restricting  barrier.  Whoever  believes  in  Christ  has  the 
eternal  life,  and  needs  to  long  for  nothing  beyond  the  pres- 
ent. It  is  only  unbelief,  or  weakness  of  faith,  which  waits  for 
the  future,  instead  of  grasping  and  holding  fast  the  eternal  in 
the  midst  of  the  earthly  life,  and  of  being  perfectly  content  with 
its  full,  living,  presence  for  the  soul." 


THE    LONCxING    FOR   HOME.  883 

These  loftj  words  bear  a  certain  semblance  of  strength  of 
faith  and  fullness  of  faith,  which,  however,  can  deceive  only  the 
ignorant.  Or  has  the  ctcrnallife  in  Christ  whose  perfect  posses- 
sion these  persons  so  confidently  ascribe  to  themselves,  just  now 
appeared  upon  the  earth  ?  Has  the  church  of  Christ  hitherto 
known  nothing  of  it  ?  There  is  no  one  who  would  venture  to 
make  so  foolish  an  assertion.  And  yet  the  longing  for  the  con- 
summation of  the  kingdom  of  God  has  ever  been  earnest  in  the 
church.  Yea,  experience  testifies  incontestably,  that  it  has  every- 
where least  of  all  failed  where  faith  and  love  have  been  the 
strongest.  Those  who  have  here  participated  in  eternal  life  in 
communion  with  God,  have,  without  doubt,  most  heartily  longed 
for  its  fulfillment  beyond  the  present  existence.  And  assuredly 
if  any  Christian  feelings  have  found  in  the  songs  of  the  church 
a  sincere,  touching,  heartfelt  expression,  they  are  its  glorious 
hopes  ;  and  these  are  its  holy  longings. 

But  whether  the  church  of  the  Lord  has  a  divine  right  to  such 
a  hope  and  longing,  or  whether  in  this  any  human  fancy,  and 
strange  delusion  has  misled  it,  let  the  Apostles  of  the  Lord  first 
decide.  Paul  has  been  styled  preeminently  the  Apostle  of  faith  ; 
and  this  justly.  The  unconditioned,  the  justifying  and  saving 
power  of  faith  in  the  grace  of  God  in  Christ,  is  the  great 
subject  of  his  preaching,  of  which  he  knows  how  to  testify  with 
words  of  flame.  And  yet  the  same  Paul,  who  possessed  in  his 
faith  an  inexhaustible  spring  of  the  holiest  peace,  according  to 
his  own  acknowledgment,  as  our  text  in  the  original  reads,  had 
a  *'  dcoire  to  depart  from  the  body  and  to  be  at  home  Avith  the 
Lord."  Just  for  the  reason  that  Christ  is  his  life  here,  even 
during  his  stay  on  earth,  is  dying  for  him  gain.  The  life  of 
believers,  as  he  writes  to  the  Colossians,  is  hidden  with  Christ  in 
God.  Its  real  nature  as  it  appears  to  the  eye  of  God,  remains 
concealed  from  the  world  by  an  impenetrable  veil,  as  Christ  him- 
self, by  his  return  to  the  Father,  has  withdrawn  himself  from  the 
view  of  the  world.  But  when  Christ,  our  life,  shall  appear,  then 
will  His  disciples  appear  with  Him  in  glory.     Yea.  the  Holy 


$>     38i  JULIUS    MiJLLEE. 

Ghost  with  all  His  gifts  and  inflaences,  the  Apostle,  io.  several 
passages  of  his  Epistles,  declares  to  be  the  pledge  of  an  imperish- 
able inheritance,  whose  full  possession  God  so  guarantees  to  his 
church  ;  and  of  the  possessors  of  the  first  fruits  of  this  heavenly 
harvest,  he  says  that  they  wait  for  the  adoption,  the  redemption 
of  their  body.  The  assertion,  which  was  heard  at  that  time, 
that  the  resurrection  is  already  past,  in  a  spiritual  way,  and  that 
no  farther  resurrection  is  to  be  expected — ^this  assertion  the 
Apostle  rejects  as  profane  and  vain  babbling. 

And  how  harmonious  with  these  testimonies  of  Paul  is  what 
#  the  Apostle  of  Love  says  of  the  relation  of  our  present  partici- 
pation in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  this 
kingdom.  "Who  can  deny  that,  with  strong  and  bold  words, 
which  are  so  much  the  loftier  the  simpler  they  are,  he  praises 
the  blessed  communion  which  here  even  unites  the  disciple  in 
whose  heart  love  reigns,  with  his  God  and  his  Saviour  ?  And 
yet  he  regards  it  only  as  the  introduction  to  a  higher  communion. 
Little  children,  he  prays,  "  abide  in  Christ,  that  when  He  shall 
appear  we  may  have  confidence  and  not  be  ashamed  before  Him 
at  His  coming."  And  that  the  consummation  of  the  kingdom 
of  God,  which  then  appears,  is  so  infinitely  more  glorious  than  all 
that  believers  here  possess  that  it  must  hence  of  necessity  awaken 
their  deepest  longing — this  the  weighty  words  of  John  do  show  : 
"  Be  oved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet 
appear  what  we  shall  be.  But  we  know  that  when  He  shall 
appear,  we  shall  be  like  Him  ;  for  w^e  shall  see  Him  as  He  is." 

And  what  shall  I  say  of  Peter,  who  makes  this  longing  of  the 
Christian  church  the  very  kernel  of  hope?  Strangers  and  pilgrims, 
he  styles  the  believers,  and  points  them  encouragingly  to  the 
heavenly  bliss  and  glory  which  shall  follow  their  earthly  life  ; 
and  speaks,  with  earnest  desire,  of  the  future  revelation  of  Jesus 
Christ,  whom,  although  they  had  not  seen,  they  love,  and  on 
whom  they  believe,  though  they  see  him  not. 

Finally,  He  himself  whose  word  is  the  highest  source  and 
measure  of  all  our  knowledge,  whose  spirit  guided  the  Apostles 


THE  LONGING  FOR  HOME.  3S5 

into  all  truth — Ho  declares  that  whoever  sees  the  •  Son  and 
believes  in  him,  hath  everlasting  life  ;  but  immediately  adds,  in 
order  to  define  more  closely  the  nature  of  this  possession,  that 
such  a  one  He  will  raise  up  at  the  last  day.  And  so  He  often 
speaks  to  His  disciples  of  the  time  when  they  should  become 
participant  of  a  more  perfect  and  glorious  communion  witli  Him. 
Yea,  His  last  words,  which  He  spoke  before  His  deatli,  in  the 
circle  of  His  disciples — they  must  have  awakened  in  their  souls 
the  deepest  longing  for  the  heavenly  home.  "  I  will  that  tliey 
also  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  me  wliere  I  am,  that 
they  may  behold  my  glory  which  thou  has  given  me."  And 
when  to  the  Prince  of  hfe  upon  Golgotha,  the  night  of  death 
approached,  there,  even.  His  gracious  word  opened  the  gate  of 
paradise  to  the  longing  glance  of  His  companion  in  death. 

Surely,  my  friends,  if  pious  Christians  in  all  times  have  longed 
for  their  home  in  the  heavens,  the  Apostles  have  incited  them  to 
this  aspiration.  And  if  the  Apostles  have  awakened  this  long- 
ing, their  Lord  and  Master  has  himself  authorized  them  to  do  so. 
But  if  there  there  are  in  our  time  those  who  boast  of  having  the 
everlasting  life  and  will  yet  know  nothing  of  this  longing,  of 
this  hope,  they  may  thank  another  for  their  imagined  riches. 
The  eternal  life  in  Christ  they  know  not. 

What  tlie  word  of  the  Lord  and  His  Apostles  teaches,  is  con- 
firmed when  we  view  attentively  the  nature  and  inner  connections 
of  the  life  which  His  Spirit  produces  in  us.  While  we  dwell  in 
the  body,  says  the  Apostle  Paul,  we  are  separated  from  the 
Lord,  in  a  foreign  laud  ;  for,  adds  Paul  immediately,  as  the 
reason,  "  we  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight."  This,  my  brethren, 
is  a  great  and  weighty  word.  Is  not  Faith  the  fountain  of  the 
new  hfe  and  its  continual  supporter,  a  certain  assurance  of 
what  we  hope  for,  a  firm  conviction  of  what  we  see  not  ?  Do 
we  not  know  through  it,  that  in  our  pilgrimage,  the  Lord 
is  at  all  times  near  us  ?  And  yet,  however  close  may  be  the 
union  of  the  believer  with  Christ,  it  is  yet  to  be  regarded  as  a 
separation,  compared  with  the  perfect  communion  with  Him, 

n 


BS6  JULIUS    MiJLLER. 

of  which  he  will  be  participant  when  his  faith  shall  bo  trans- 
formed into  sight.  And  if  faith,  in  its  innermost  nature,  is 
nothing'  else  than  the  veiled  bud  of  sight,  how  shall  we  not  long 
for  the  unfolding  of  this  bud  to  a  most  glorious  blossom  ?  If 
we  see  now  the  glory  of  the  Lord  only  through  a  glass,  in  a 
mysterious  way — who  will  not  aspire,  with  the  Apostles,  ^o  see 
face  to  face,  to  know  even  as  we  are  known?  Yes,  what  signi- 
fies this  seeing  in  the  glass,  if  that  which  appears  to  us  therein 
in  twilight,  is  not  one  day  to  be  revealed  to  us  in  serene  clear- 
ness ?  Would  not  the  whole  life  of  the  Christian  remain  a 
strange  fragment,  full  of  facts  which  point  to  tlie  Highest,  the 
Divine,  and  yet  again  so  inexplicably  incomplete,  if  a  future 
consummation  did  not  await  it  ?  What  mean  these  seeds  full 
of  promise,  if  they  are  to  ripen  into  no  harvest  ?  And  who  gives 
us  light  to  understand  the  history  of  the  true  Church  of  Christ  ? 
Who  solves  for  us  the  hard  riddle  of  its  inward  and  outward 
strife,  of  its  strength  and  its  weakness,  of  its  growth  and  its 
decline  ?  And  w^hy  all  this  struggle,  if  it  leads  to  no  real 
victory?  To  this  triumph  in  the  future  everything  points  in 
the  earthly  development  of  the  Church  of  tlie  Lord — that  com- 
munity of  the  true  believers  and  saints,  w^hich  we  term  the 
invisible  church.  By  this  alone  can  its  struggles  and  sufferings 
be  explained.  A  time  is  to  come  when  everything  incomplete 
shall  attain  a  perfection,  and  every  fragment  appear  as  a  beau- 
tiful whole  ;  when  every  discord  shall  be  resolved  into  harmony, 
and  every  hidden  glory  be  revealed  ;  when  every  holy  desire 
find  full  satisfaction.  Then  shall  our  faith,  which  to  the  children 
of  this  world  appears  now  as  an  offence — now  as  a  folly, 
be  solemnly  justified  by  sight.  Then  shall  the  fountain  of  all 
evil,  sin,  be  forever  sealed.  Then  shall  those  who  have  truly 
loved  one  another  in  the  earthly  life,  know  of  no  separation 
more.  Then  shall  the  troubles  and  the  hindrances  which  spring 
from  the  society  of  the  world  vanish.  Then  shall  the  purified 
be  free  from  all  the  pains  and  distresses  of  this  perishable 
body. 


THE   LONGING    FOR   HOME. 


38? 


My  friends,  it  may  again,  in  our  days,  become  a  dif=])iited 
point,  whether  the  natural  intelligence  in  itself  finds  sullicient 
ground  for  maintaining  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  But  in  the 
sphere  of  Christian  faith,  the  reality  of  a  blessed  futi.re  can 
never  be  a  subject  of  debate.  One  needs,  in  truth,  to  have 
taken  only  the  first  steps  in  this  holy  sphere,  to  become  aware 
liow  here  all  paths  run  towards  a  goal  which  shines  allur- 
ingly from  the  world  beyond  :  how  all  is  only  a  beginning 
that  points  to  a  future  consummation.  It  is  true,  Christ  con- 
tinues to  come  in  a  way  invisible,  hidden  from  the  world,  so 
often  as  His  Spirit  is  poured  out  anew  among  men  ;  but  just 
for  this  reason  will  He  one  day,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  visibly 
appear  in  divine  glory.  It  is  true,  His  disciples  with  Him  have 
arisen  to  a  new  life  ;  but  just  for  this  reason  will  He  one  day 
awaken  them  to  the  full  and  complete  purification  and  trans- 
figuration of  their  being.  It  is  true,  His  judgment  walks  through 
the  history  of  the  world,  an  ever  new  separation  of  the  good 
and  evil,  and  of  those  who  belong  to  both,  an  ever  new  condem- 
nation and  destruction  of  the  perverse,  ungodly  action  of  the 
world  ;  but  just  for  this  reason  shall  this  judgment  one  day 
attain  to  its  complete  realization.  It  is  true,  the  powers  of  the 
future  world,  and  of  the  everlasting  life,  are  already  efficient  in 
the  present  life  of  the  believers  ;  but  just  for  this  reason  shall 
they  one  day,  when  nothing  longer  hinders  them,  pour  themselves 
over  the  perfected  ones,  in  exuberant  and  blessed  fullness. 

AVhoever  will  wrest  from  the  Christian  this  object  of  his  hope 
and  longing,  declares  a  war  of  extermination  against  his  whole 
faith.  This  it  is  which  the  Apostle  says  :  "  For  if  the  dead 
rise  not,  then  is  not  Christ  raised  :  and  if  Christ  be  not  raised, 
your  faith  is  vain  ;  ye  are  yet  in  your  sins."  Upon  the  rock  of  this 
Apostolical  declaration,  the  bold  pretence  is  shattered,  of  those 
who  boast  of  holding,  yea  of  perfecting  the  Christian  faith,  v.  hilc 
seeking  to  destroy  the  Christian  hope.  The  faith  and  the  hope  of 
the  Christian  are  an  indivisible  whole.  Whoever  dares  to  put 
asunder  what  God  has  joined  together  in  his  everlasting  counsels  ; 


388  JULIUS   MiJLLEE. 

whoever,  with  presumptuous  modesty,  renounces  the  whole,  and  will 
content  himself  with  a  part — he  does  not  truly  possess  even  this 
part,  but  a  self-made  phantom  that  in  the  hour  of  trial  dissolves 
before  his  eyes.  Whoever  hath,  to  him  shall  be  given  ;  and  who- 
ever hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away  what  he  thinks  he 
has.  If  our  hope  is  vain,  our  whole  faith  is  a  cheat  and  a  lie. 
"If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all  men 
most  miserable,"  for  we  are  the  most  deluded.  But  we  know  whom 
we  have  bolieved  ;  we  know  that  He  cannot  deceive  us.  We 
calmly  trust  to  His  promise  that  he  has  gone  to  prepare  a  place 
for  us,  and  that  He  will  one  day  come  and  take  us  to  Himself, 
that  we  may  be  where  He  is.  How  can  we  help  longing  for  this 
blessed  consummation  ? 

You  see,  my  brethren,  that  whether  we  regard  the  express 
testimonies  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  or  look  into  the  inner 
nature  of  the  Christian  life,  the  same  conviction  meets  us,  that 
this  louging  belongs  to  the  Christian  mode  of  thought  and  tem- 
per of  heart. 

11. — But  if  this  be  so,  we  should  anticipate  that  the  effects 
of  this  longing  could  not  be  otherwise  than  salutary.  And 
that  this  expectation  does  not  deceive  us,  the  progress  of  our 
meditation  will  render  certain. 

The  first  effect  of  the  Christian  longing,  is  the  strengthening  and 
animation  of  our  zeal  in  the  work  of  sanctification.  "  We  are 
confident,"  says  the  Apostle,  inspired,  "and  wiUing  rather  to 
be  absent  from  the  body,  and  to  be  present  with  the  Lord — 
wJierefore  we  labor,  tliat  whether  present  or  absent,  we  may  be 
accepted  of  liim."  What  the  Apostle  here  testifies  to  from  his 
innermost  experience,  all  Christians  have  also  experienced  who 
have  shared  his  glowing  aspiration  after  the  heavenly  home. 
This  aspiration  has  been  to  them  a  powerful  spur,  by  patience 
in  well  doing,  to  seek  for  everlasting  life.  Yes,  so  close  and  so 
essential  is  this  connection  between  both,  that  we  can  recognize 
a  truly  Christian  longing  for  home,  such  as  filled  the  heart  of  the 


THE  LONGING  FOK  HOME.  389 

Apostle,  only  when  it  bears  these  holy  fruits  iu  the  life  of  the 
man.  As  the  sun  cannot  do  otherwise  than  enlighten  and  warm, 
so  the  longing  for  home  in  the  mind  of  the  Christian  cannot 
help  revealing  itself  in  a  redoubled  endeavor  to  walk  in  a  way 
well  pleasing  to  God. 

Or  shall  that  sickly  sensibility,  which,  with  its  repulsive  car- 
icature, mimics  the  holiest  feelings  of  the  Christian,  and  with  its 
lie  nestles  in  the  truest  and  simplest  expressions  of  a  pious  soul, 
shake  our  conviction  ?  Or  those  disordered  states  of  men  who, 
by  their  own  guilt  have  made  life  intolerable,  and  now  long  for 
death,  fancying  that  one  needs  only  to  die  in  order  to  be  blessed  ? 
Do  all  these  really  aspire  after  the  home  with  Christ,  after  per- 
fect communion  with  Him  ?  Far  from  it  ;  but  the  present  form 
of  earthly  life  to  which  their  heart  is  fettered  witli  iron  chains, 
they  hope  to  find  again,  a  little  improved,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  grave.  They  will  make  that  immortal  which  is  devoted  to 
transitoriness.  Their  selfish  and  worthless  chase,  as  it  is  turned 
away  from  God,  their  diseased  fancy  bears  over  to  the  next  life, 
in  order  then  to  find  blessedness  in  the  undisturbed  enjoyment 
of  this  wretchedness.  But  if  this  be  the  nature  of  their  hope,  their 
longing,  so  far  as  they  are  earnest  in  it — who  will  wonder  that 
it  has  no  sanctifying  influence  upon  their  life  ? 

How  entirely  otherwise  is  it  with  the  hope  and  longing  of 
the  believing  Christian  ?  Among  the  divine  promises  which 
irradiate  his  future  life — is  there  one  precious  above  all  others — 
is  there  one  that  wakes  his  deepest  longing — it  is  the  promise 
that  his  communion  with  Christ  which  here  ever  continues  a  dis- 
turbed and  imperfect  communion,  shall  then  be  perfected  ;  that 
in  this  communion  he  shall  be  participant  of  a  knowledge  of 
God,  before  which  his  present  knowledge  sinks  away,  as  the  in- 
articulate thoughts  of  a  child  before  the  ripened  weight  of  the 
man.  Can  you,  my  friends,  imagine  a  loftier  destination  for  man, 
than  this  which  the  Gospel  points  out  for  him — the  destination  to 
perfect  communion  with  the  Son,  to  the  blessed  intuition  of  the 
Father  ?     So  lofty  is  this  destination  that  we  need  not  at  all 


390  JULIUS   MULLEK. 

wonder  if  many  regard  the  hope  of  attaining  it  as  wicked  pre- 
sumption— as  a  fanatical  delusion.  For  truly,  there  is  required 
the  whole  childlike  simplicity  and  boldness  of  the  Christian  faith, 
in  order  to  hold  fast  the  promise  of  the  Lord,  in  defiance  of  all 
doubts  and  apprehensions,  in  the  midst  of  the  pitifulness  and 
worthlessness  of  earthly  life.  "  And  every  man  that  hath  this 
hope  in  him,  purifieth  himself,  even  as  He  is  pure."  For  only  to 
those  who  are  pure  in  heart,  is  the  promise  given  that  they  shall 
see  God.  So  there  is  an  immeasurable  chasm  between  Christian 
hope  and  longing,  and  every  service  of  sin. 

And  upon  this  point  no  one  in  whom  this  hope  and  longing  is 
actually  living,  can  be  deceived,  or  in  his  innermost  consciousness, 
doubt.  When  the  imperishable  glory  of  his  home  comes  near 
his  mind  and  enkindles  that  deep  longing  in  him,  his  whole  life 
appears  to  be  consecrated.  He  feels  himself  elevated  above  the 
common  and  paltry  bustle  of  the  world — above  its  foolish  chase 
after  perishable  enjoyments.  Destined  to  see  God,  it  is  un- 
worthy for  him  to  bear  the  yoke  of  earthly  cares  and  passions. 
Upon  his  way  to  this  heavenly  home,  he  dare  not  pollute  himself 
with  sin.  He  carefully  guards  against  all  that  could  displease 
Him,  after  the  closest  communion  with  whom  he  aspires  ;  as  this 
holy  longing  lifts  him  above  many  temptations  which  become 
dangerous  to  others,  so  it  strengthens  him  for  the  struggle  with 
those  which  still  menace  him.  And  if,  forgetful  of  his  eternal 
home,  he  becomes  weak  and  gives  up  to  slumber,  it  is  the  re- 
awakening remembrance  of  this  home  which  admonishes  him  to 
rouse  himself  again,  and  anew  to  press  towards  the  "mark  for  the 
prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus." 

Everywhere  in  the  Christian  life,  are  the  purifying  and  consol- 
ing influences  of  the  Gospel  closely  connected.  As  that  alone 
is  able  truly  to  console  us,  which  at  the  same  time  works  with 
sanctifying  power  upon  our  will  ;  so  whatever  truly  sanctifies  us 
will  not  be  without  a  consoling  and  blessing  influence  upon  our 
hearts.  The  longing  for  our  heavenly  home — comfort  and  peace 
for  the  earthly  life  is  its  other  not  less  essential  cff'ect. 


THE    LONGING   FOR   HOME.  391 

To  those,  indeed,  who  have  only  au  outward  acquaintance 
with  Christian  faith  and  tlie  Christian  temi)er,  tliis  will  by  no 
means  be  clear.  It  rather  seems  to  them  to  be  exactly  the  re- 
verse. They  think,  that  to  whoever  longs  for  a  heavenly  homo, 
the  whole  earthly  life  must  necessarily  be  painful  ;  that  nothing- 
can  loni>-er  give  him  joy;  that  he  everywhere  sees  only  misery 
and  want. 

Let  us  ask  the  Apostle,  whether  the  earthly  life  became  to 
him  tormenting  darkness,  after  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
blessed  light  beyond  its  borders  ?  It  is  true,  a  strain  of  holy  sad- 
ness presses  forth  irresistibly  from  the  words  of  our  text.  The 
same  strain  chimes  mildly  and  earnestly,  through  all  the  epistles 
of  the  Apostle.  You  hear  it  reecho  from  the  epistles  of  the  other 
disciples  of  our  Lord  ;  and  if  you  will  listen,  you  can  easily  hear 
the  same  in  the  inner  life  of  every  pious  Christian.  But  this  still 
sadness  by  no  means  excludes  joy  and  peace — of  this  Paul  him- 
self is  a  proof,  when  he  so  often,  in  the  most  hearty  and  lofty 
words,  discloses  to  us  the  deep  peace  and  divine  joyfulness  of  his 
soul  ;  when  he  also  in  our  text  expressly  testifies  :  "  We  are 
always  confident."  And  this  comfort  which  never  leaves  him, 
he  places  in  the  closest  connection  with  his  longing  for  home. 
"We  are  confident,"  he  repeats,  with  emphasis,  "and  willing 
rather  to  be  absent  from  the  body,  and  to  be  present  Avith  the 
Lord "         'i^         'f^         "i^         'f'         '1^         'i^ 

Surely,  my  friends,  the  walk  through  the  earthly  life  is  very 
calm  and  peaceful  when  one  has  nothing  to  fear,  but  everything 
to  hope  ;  when,  by  faith,  the  sting  is  taken  from  death,  by  the 
fear  of  which  countless  men  are  slaves  for  their  whole  life  ;  when 
the  natural  dread  of  this  great,  w^ondrous  event  is  swallowed  up 
"  in  the  joyful  courage  of  Christian  hope,  which  sees  in  death  only 
a  birth  into  a  more  perfect  life.  Those  who  long  for  home  are 
already  dead,  in  the  midst  of  the  earthly  life.  They  are  familiar 
with  the  idea  from  which  others  flee  in  terror,  that  the  time  wdll 
come  when  their  eye,  too,  will  grow  dim,  their  heart  stand  still, 
their  last  thought  sink  into  the  darkness  of  unconsciousness;  that 


392  JULIUS   MULLER. 

then  the  cotiiii  and  the  grave  will  close  over  thch'  dissolving 
frame.  They  arc  dead.  They  have  within  them  experienced 
and  snrvived  death.  They  know  that  to  them  beyond  death, 
life  is  made  sure,  in  communion  with  Him  who  says  to  His 
disciples  :  "Because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also."  And  when,  from 
their  home  they  shall  glance  back  to  the  checkered  world,  there 
rests  upon  it  a  mild,  peaceful  light,  w^hich  harmonizes  all  its 
discords,  and  reveals  to  them  here  even  in  the  works  of  His  cre- 
ation, as  in  a  mirror,  the  glory  of  God  which  they  shall  one  day 
fully  see.  Nature  has  to  them  a  livelier  radiance,  and  prophesies 
of  its  future  transfiguration.  More  grateful  are  the  forms  of 
those  human  relations  in  which  the  penetrating  glance  of  aspir- 
ing love  to  the  Eternal  One,  easily  discovers  the  seeds  of  a 
higher,  imperishable  development.  That  passionate  dependence 
on  the  goods  of  the  earthly  life,  that  immoderate  joy,  that 
rapture  in  their  possession,  you  may  not,  indeed,  expect  from 
them.  They  have  become  acquainted  wath  something  better 
than  this  world  can  proffer.  The  calm,  blessed  consciousness 
that  they  are  called  to  something  infinitely  higher  and  more 
glorious,  constantly  accompanies  them.  But  are  they,  therefore, 
less  capable  of  appreciating  and  enjoying  earthly  beauties  and 
blessings,  because,  in  the  view  of  death  and  the  future  life,  they 
have  found  and  ever  hold  fast  their  right  measure  ?  And  how 
much  easier  are  the  pains  and  toils  of  this  perishable  life  borne 
when  the  eye  of  the  soul  is  directed  to  its  eternal  home  !  Oh, 
then,  with  the  apostle  Paul,  w^e  hold,  "  that  the  sufferings  of 
this  present  time  are  not  w^orthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory 
which  shall  be  revealed  in  us."  Then  we  enjoy,  in  the  midst  of 
affliction  and  need,  a  holy  peace  by  the  power  of  living  hope, 
"  as  dying,  and  behold  we  live,  as  chastened  and  not  killed,  as 
sorrowful,  yet  always  rejoicing." 

And  whether  the  great  hour  comes  early  or  late,  when  the 
gates  of  the  Father's  house  open,  the  hour  wdien  the  Lord 
beckoas  to  the  weary  pilgrim  to  come  out  of  the  body — oh, 
how  calm  and  courageously  do  we  enter,  then,  into  the  mys- 


393        '     THE  LONGING  FOR  HOME. 

terions,  silent  iiigiit  of  the  valley  of  death,  leaning  on  the  liand 
of  Iliin  who  has  for  our  eternal  salvation,  trod  this  narrow, 
dark  path.  As  a  child  upon  a  perilous  way  clings  to  its  mother* 
so  do  we  cling  closely  to  Him,  who  has  taken  from  death  its 
power  through  His  death,  and  has  brought  life  and  immortality 
to  light  through  His  resurrection.  Only  a  few  stei)s  are  to  be 
taken  in  that  valley  of  pain.  For  only  a  few  moments  docs  our 
outward  nature  struggle  against  the  dissolving  power  of  death. 
Then  it  is  over.  The  dark  shades  disappear,  and  into  the  enrap- 
tured eye  beams,  in  the  mildest,  most  blessed  radiance,  the 
Eternal  Home! — Yes,  "we  are  always  confident"  whether  in 
life  or  in  death.  With  calm  longing,  our  glance  rests  upon  the 
blessed  home  which  lies  before  us,  and  life  appears  to  us  peace- 
ful, and  death  sweet.  The  thorns  of  our  pilgrim-path  no  longer 
wound  us,  and  the  entrance  to  the  Father's  house  is  no  more 
narrow  and  fearful.  The  waste  blooms  into  a  garden  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  dark  valley  becomes  a  light,  lovely  path.  With 
refreshing  peace  within,  praising  God  with  heart  and  mouth,  we 
joyfully  walk  toward  the  beloved  home. 

From  Thee,  our  Father  in  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord,  comes  this 
loDgiug.  It  is  thy  attracting  power  in  the  heart  which  all  Thy 
children  experience.  To  Thee  it  leads,  and  confirms  us  in  com- 
munion with  Thee.  When  shall  we  come  that  we  may  behold 
Thy  face  ?  Oh,  surely  Thou  wilt  not  leave  Thy  dear  promises 
unfulfilled.  If  we  trustfully  walk  in  Thy  way.  Thou  takest  us 
to  Thee  in  death,  and  keepest  us  calm  in  Thy  communion,  until 
one  day,  at  the  end  of  the  world.  Thou  leadest  us  into  Thy 
glorious  kingdom,  where  all  longing  ceases,  where  full  peace  and 
eternal  blessedness  awaits  Thy  children.     Amen. 


ir 


APPENDIX 


THE     DELIVERY     OF     S  E  R  ]\[  0  N  S , 

BY     DR.     A  D  0  L  P  H  E     51  0  N  0  D  .  * 


Although  the  art  of  recitation  depends  more  on  practice  than  on  theory,  it 
nevertheless  has  certain  rules,  which  must  be  presented  to  the  mind  before  you 
can  address  yourselves  with  profit  to  the  exercises  which  are  demanded,  and 
which  form  the  object  of  this  course.  In  commencing  the  lectures  of  the  year, 
I  think  it  my  duty  to  lay  these  rules  before  you,  or  rather  to  recall  them  to 
your  memory.  In  so  doing,  I  limit  myself  to  such  general  views  as  may  be 
comprised  in  a  single  discourse,  and,  at  the  same  time,  are  of  universal  appli- 
cation. 

GENEUAL   VIEWS   OF   THE   ART   OP   RECITATION — ITS   IMPORTANCE — ITS   DIFFICULTY 
— ITS  NATURE — INVESTIGATION  OP  A  QUESTION. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  for  me  to  call  your  attention  to  the  importance  of  a 
good  delivery.  Among  all  human  means,  there  is  no  one  which  contributes 
more  to  fix  the  attention  of  men,  and  to  move  their  hearts.  The  discourse 
which,  delivered  with  forced  emphasis  or  with  monotony,  leaves  the  hearer 
cold  and  seems  to  court  inattention,  would  have  attracted,  convinced,  and 
melted,  if  it  had  been  pronounced  with  the  accent  of  the  soul,  and  the  intona- 
tions which  nature  communicates  to  sentiment  and  reason.    It  is  vain  to  say 

*  This  Lecture  was  dclirercd  by  Br.  Monod,  to  several  classes  of  Tlieolojrical  stu- 
dents at  Montaaban.  A  translation  of  it  by  Dr.  James  W.  Alexander,  appeared  in  the 
Princeton  Review,  some  fifteen  years  ago,  and  at  tlic  time  excited  remarks  of  a  very  com- 
mendatory nature.  The  ■wish  has  been  expressed  that  it  might  be  had  in  a  more  available 
form,  and  read,  especially  by  young  ministers,  generally.  Dr.  Monod,  as  the  most  ac- 
complished orator  of  our  diiy,  in  France,  if  not  in  f'urope,  certainly  deserves  to  be  heard 
with  the  respect  due  to  a  master  in  the  department  of  sacred  eloquence.  For  vivid 
originality  and  native  truth,  there  are  few  compositions  on  the  subject  to  compare  with 
this  Lecture.  The  very  accurate  rendering  referred  to  above,  is  here,  In  the  main 
retained;  a  few  changes,  mostly  at  the  kind  suggestion  of  Dr.  Al*»xund<'r,  having  beeu 
made. 

895 


o'Jb  APPENDIX 

that  this  is  an  affair  of  mere  form,  about  which  the  Christian  orator  s^hould  not 
much  concern  himself.  Even  if  delivery  were  a  secondary  thing  with  the  orator, 
which  indeed  it  is  not— inasmuch  as  the  state  of  the  mind  has  more  to  do  with 
it  than  is  commonly  thought — it  must  always  have  a  commanding  interest  for 
the  hearer,  from  its  powerful  influence  on  his  thoughts  and  inclinations.  Heark- 
en to  two  men,  who  ought  to  be  at  home  in  this  matter — Demosthenes  and 
Jlassillon.  The  greater  the  difference  between  the  kinds  of  eloquence  in  which 
they  respectively  excelled,  the  more  forcible  is  the  testimony  which  they  both 
bear  to  the  power  of  delivery  and  oratorical  action.  Demosthenes  was  asked 
what  was  the  first  quality  of  the  orator?  "It  is  action,"  and  the  second?  "Ac- 
tion," and  the  third?  "Action."  Massillon  expressed  the  same  judgment, 
when  he  replied,  on  a  certain  occasion,  to  one  who  asked  him  which  he 
thought  his  best  sermon,  "  That  one  which  I  know  best."  Why  so,  unless 
that  which  he  knew  the  best  was  that  which  he  could  best  deliver?  \Ye  may 
be  allowed  to  believe  that  these  two  great  masters  of  the  art  exaggerated  their 
opinion  in  order  to  make  it  more  striking  :  but  its  foundation  is  perfectly  true. 
It  is  not  merely  a  true  opinion ;  it  is  an  experimental  fact,  which  cannot  be 
contested. 

There  is  nothing  in  what  we  have  been  saying  which  should  startle  a  pious 

soul.    True  piety  does  not  forbid  the  use  of  the  natural  faculties  which  God  has 

allotted  to  us ;  but  commands  us  to  use  these  for  His  glory,  and  for  the  good  of 

our  race.    What  Bossuet  so  well  said  of  God's  imspircd  servants,  applies  with 

greater  reason  to  all  others  :  "True  wisdom  avails  itself  of  all,  and  it  is  not 

the  will  of  God  that  those  whom  he  inspires  should  neglect  human  means, 

which  also  in  some  sort  proceed  from  Him."     The  motto  of  the  mj^stic  morals 

is  abstain  ;  that  of  evangelic  morals  is  consecrate.    And  surely  the  latter  is  above 

the  former  :  for  to  abstain,  it  is  enough  to  distrust ;  but  to  consecrate,  we 

must  believe.    Exercise  yourselves,  then,  gentlemen,  without  scruple  in  the 

art  of  elocution  and  delivery  ;  but  let  it  be  in  a  Christian  spirit.     Let  the  art  of 

i  recitation  be  with  you,  not  an  end,  but  a  means.    If  in  your  application  to  this 

I   exercise  you  have  no  higher  aim  than  recitation  itself,  and  those  praises  which 

1   the  world  lavishes  on  such  as  speak  well,  you  are  no  longer  a  preacher ;  you  are 

\  no  longer  even  an  orator  ;  you  are  an  actor.    But  if  you  cultivate  elocution  as 

a  means  of  glorifying  God  and  doing  good  to  man,  you  fulfill  an  obligation; 

and  the  greater  the  zeal  and  labor  which  you  bring  to  the  task,  the  more  may 

you  implore  with  confidence  that  grace  without  which  the  most  eloquent  is  but 

"  a  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbal." 

This  labor  is  the  more  necessary,  moreover,  because  the  difp'iCoI.ty  of  the 
art  which  occupies  our  attention  is  equal  to  its  importance.  This  is  proved  by 
experience  :  those  who  recite  well  are  few.  There  is,  however,  a  distinction  to 
be  observed  between  the  recitation  of  the  actor,  and  that  of  the  orator.  The 
former  is  much  more  difficult  than  the  latter ;  and  good  orators  are  not  com- 
monly great  actors,  at  least  in  tragedy.  Scarcely  one  appears  in  an  age.  For 
the  actor  has  two  things  to  do,  of  which  the  orator  has  but  one.  To  the  latter, 
it  suffices  to  express  the  sentiments  which  he  actually  experiences  ;  but  the 
former  must  express  the  sentiments  of  another.  Now,  to  express  these,  he 
must  first  make"  them  his  oavIi;  and  this  necessitv  which  has  no  existence  in 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  SERMONS.  397 

the  case  of  the  orator,  demands  of  the  actor  a  study  altogether  peculiar,  and 
apparently  constitutes  the  most  difficult  portion  of  his  art.  To  transform  one's 
self  into  a  person  altogether  foreign;  to  become  invested  with  liis  manners, 
character,  passions,  and  language  ;  and,  nevertheless,  to  remain  master  of 
himself  and  with  the  mind  free,  since  it  would  be  a  weakness  in  the  actor  to 
confound  himself  with  his  part,  so  far  as  to  forget  himself  and  his  acting ;  this 
demands  a  prodigious  faculty,  and  one  which  seems  to  depend  on  certain 
natural  dispositions  which  are  altogether  peculiar.*  It  seems  as  if  there  were 
a  separate  organ  for  the  dramatic  art ;  and  it  has  been  remarked  that  illus- 
trious actors  have  not  always  been  men  of  commanding  intellect.  So  that  we 
may  make  the  same  distinction  between  the  orator  and  the  actor,  which 
Cicero  makes  between  the  orator  and  the  poet :  nascuniur  poctce,  fiunt  oratarcs. 
We  may  thank  God  that  we  depend  less  on  organization,  and  that  this  power 
of  imagination  is  not  indispensable  to  us  :  our  task  is,  at  the  same  time,  more 
noble  and  less  complicated.  To  communicate  our  thoughts  and  feelings  in  a 
suitable,  just,  and  expressive  manner,  is  all  that  we  demand. 

But  how  does  it  happen,  then,  that  speakers,  whose  delivery  is  good,  exist  in 
no  greater  numbers?  Leaving  out  of  view  forensic  and  parliamentary  orators, 
how  comes  it  that  there  are  Christian  preachers  who  sometimes  pronounce 
their  discourses  without  action,  and  even  without  just  inflection,  and  this  when 
neither  the  sincerity  of  their  belief  nor  their  interest  in  the  subject  can  be 
called  in  question?  There  is  the  greater  reason  to  be  astonished  at  this,  because 
the  same  men  often  manifest  in  animated  conversation  many  of  the  very  qual- 
ities which  we  miss  in  their  pulpit  exercises,  so  that  they  need  nothing  in  order 
to  make  them  excellent  speakers,  but  to  be  themselves.  It  is  a  difficult  question ; 
but  let  us  attempt  its  solution. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  in  the  first  place,  that  there  is  a  wide  distinction 
between  preaching  and  conversation,  however  grave,  interesting,  or  animated. 
A  discourse,  in  which  it  is  attempted  to  develop  one  or  more  propositions,  one 
person  being  sole  speaker  for  an  hour,  before  a  numerous  audience,  has,  and 
ought  to  have,  something  of  continuity  and  elevation  which  does  not  belong  to 
mere  conversation.  We  are  no  longer  in  the  sphere  of  simple  nature.  There 
must  be  some  calculation  of  measures,  management  of  voice,  and  strengthening 
of  intonations;  in  a  word,  there  must  be  self-obsen^ation ;  and  where  this  be- 
gins, the  speaker  is  no  longer  in  that  pure  simplicity  where  nature  displays  and 
acts  itself  forth  unreservedly.  Preaching  likewise  demands  certain  powers, 
both  physical  and  moral,  which  are  not  possessed  by  every  one,  and  which  are 
not  required  in  conversation.  The  two  cases,  therefore,  are  not  parallel ;  and 
this  may  suffice  to  show  how  the  same  persons  may  succeed  in  one  and  fail  in 
the  other. 

This  first  difference,  which  is  in  the  nature  of  things,  produces  another 
which  pertains  to  the  orator.    In  attempting  to  rise  above  the  tone  of  conver- 

*  Some  curiosity  will  be  felt,  perhaps,  to  know  in  what  pi-eat-  actors  themselves  have 
made  their  talent  to  consist.  "  What  they  call  ray  talent,"  Talma  somewhere  says,  "  is 
perhaps  nothing  but  an  extreme  facility  in  raising  myself  to  sentiments  which  are  not  my 
own,  hut  which  I  appropriate  in  imagination.  During  some  hours  I  am  able  to  live  the 
life  of  others,  and  if  it  is  not  granted  to  me  to  resuscitate  the  personages  of  history 
with  their  earthly  dress,  I  at  least  force  their  passions  to  rise  and  murmur  within  me." 


398  APPENDIX. 

sation,  most  preachers  depart  from  it  too  much.  They  inflate  their  delivery, 
and  declaim  instead  of  speaking ;  and  when  the  pompous  enters,  the  natural 
departs.  We  must  not,  indeed,  expect  too  much;  but  whether  it  be  the  influ- 
ence of  example,  or  traditionary  bad  taste,  or  the  ease  of  a  method  in  which 
capacity  of  lungs  goes  for  labor  of  reflection  and  energy  of  sentiment,  the  fact 
is  that  there  is  scarcely  one  among  us,  who  does  not  betray  some  leaven  of 
declamation,  or  who  preaches  with  perfect  simplicity. 

We  may  read,  recite,  or  speak  extempore.  If  we  read,  it  is  almost  impossi- 
ble to  assume  a  tone  entirely  natural ;  either  because  the  art  of  reading  well 
is  perhaps  more  difiicult  than  that  of  speaking  well,  or  because  the  preacher 
who  reads,  when  he  is  supposed  to  be  speaking,  places  himself  thereby  in  a 
kind  of  false  position,  of  which  he  must  undergo  the  penalty.  It  will  be  better 
to  rehearse  after  having  committed  to  memory ;  the  preacher  speaks  through- 
out after  his  manuscript,  it  is  true,  but  he  speaks^  nevertheless.  Where  the 
speaker  has  prepared  his  thoughts  and  even  his  words,  it  is  a  matter  which  the 
auditor  need  not  know,  and  which  a  good  delivery  can  ordinarily  conceal  from 
those  who  are  not  themselves  in  the  habit  of  speaking  in  public.  The  mind, 
the  voice,  the  attitude,  all  are  more  free,  and  the  delivery  is  far  more  natural. 
But  can  it  be  completely  so  ?  I  do  not  know.  Art  may  go  very  far,  but  it  is 
art  still ;  and  there  is  a  certain  tone  of  semi-declamation,  from  which  there  is 
scarcely  any  escape  ;  a  tax,  as  it  were,  which  must  be  paid  to  method ;  to  that 
method  which  we  are,  however,  far  from  condemning,  and  which  seems  to 
have  been  practised  by  some  of  the  servants  of  God,  in  whom  He  has  been 
most  glorified.  Finally,  will  it  be  possible  to  avoid  the  inconveniences  just 
mentioned,  and  shall  we  certainly  attain  a  simple  delivery,  by  abandoning 
ourselves  to  extempore  speaking?  I  believe,  indeed,  that  this  is  the  method  in 
which  one  may  hope  for  the  best  delivery ;  provided,  alwaj^s,  that  the  speaker 
has  so  great  a  facility,  or  so  complete  a  prejiaration,  or,  what  is  better,  both 
at  once,  as  to  be  freed  from  the  necessity  of  a  painful  search  for  thoughts  and 
words.  Without  tliis,  it  is  the  worst  of  all  methods,  for  matter  as  well  as  for 
form.  But  even  where  one  has  received  from  nature,  or  acquired  by  practice 
a  genuine  facility,  and  has  premeditated,  with  care,  the  concatenation  and 
order  of  his  ideas,  and  has  even  been  aided  by  the  pen  (which  is  almost  indis- 
pensable, in  order  to  speak  well),  there  will  nevertheless  always  remain  some- 
thing of  that  constraint  which  arises  from  the  research  of  what  is  to  be  said : 
and  while  the  solicitude  about  mere  words  absorbs  much  of  the  mind's  forces, 
the  orator  will  hardly  preserve  freedom  enough  to  secure,  in  all  cases,  the 
tones  of  nature.  In  this  way  simplicity  will  be  injured  by  causes  diflerent  from 
those  which  affect  one  who  recites  from  memory,  but  scarcely  less  in  degree. 
It  is  a  fact,  that  with  men  who  abandon  themselves  to  extempore  speaking, 
false  and  exaggerated  intonations  are  not  rare,  at  those  moments  when  they 
are  not  perfectly  free,  and  completely  masters  of  their  diction. 

I  have  mentioned  freedom  of  mind.  It  is  this,  more  than  all  the  rest,  which 
brings  the  preacher  into  the  natural  position,  and,  consequently,  into  the  true 
intonation.  If  lie  could  be  perfectly  at  his  ease,  the  greatest  hindrance  of  a 
just  and  natural  elocution  would  be  removed.  But  it  is  this  which  is  chiefly 
wanting,  both  in  those  who  spoak  extemporaneously  what  hns  been  meditated 


^^ 


THE    DELIVERY    OF    SERMONS.  399 


without  extraordinary  pains,  and  even  in  those  who  rehearse  a  discourse  which 
they  have  learnt  by  rote.  When  they  find  themselves  before  an  auditory,  they 
become  agitated.  They  fear  to  displease  ;  or,  if  they  are  under  Ihe  influence 
of  higher  sentiments,  they  fear  lest  they  shall  not  make  an  impression  on  their 
hearers;  or,  finally,  they  experience  a  vague  embarrassment  of  •svhich  they 
take  no  distinct  account  themselves,  and  from  which  certain  pious  ministers 
are  not  altogether  exempt.  Sometimes,  it  is  the  concourse  which  intimidates 
them ;  sometimes,  it  is  the  small  number  of  hearers ;  nay,  perhaps,  a  single 
hearer,  more  enlightened,  more  fastidious,  or  higher  in  rank,  than  the  rest ; 
— alas,  for  poor  human  heart ! — From  the  moment  that  this  miserable  timidity 
enters  the  soul  all  is  lost.  The  mind's  vision  is  troubled,  the  thoughts  are 
confused,  the  feelings  are  blunted,  the  voice  itself  is  less  firm ;  the  laboring 
breath  fatigues  the  lungs,  and  forebodes  an  approaching  hoarseness.  If  the 
orator  speak  extempore,  he  will  be  in  danger  of  stopping  short;  or,  by  a  sort 
of  calculation  which  takes  place  almost  without  his  own  knowledge,  he  will  seek 
to  hide  the  poverty  of  the  matter  under  the  show  of  the  manner,  and  will  vent 
common-place,  ill-developed,  though,  perhaps,  just  ideas  with  a  solemn  voice 
and  a  declamatory  tone,  w^hich  will  leave  his  hearers  as  cold  as  himself,  and 
which,  once  adopted,  or  rather  submitted  to,  will  hold  him  enchained  till  the 
end  of  his  discourse. 

We  hear  much  of  the  talent  and  facility  for  speaking.  I  am  far  from  admit- 
ting the  principle,  which  (whether  justly  or  not)  is  attributed  to  Jacotot— 
that  all  capacities  are  equal.  Yet,  it  is  an  error  which,  like  most  others,  is 
only  the  exaggeration  of  a  truth.  God  has  shown  himself  in  the  distribution 
of  His  gifts,  less  frugal  and  less  unequal  than  it  is  common  to  think ;  and  as 
there  is  scarcely  any  soil  from  which  culture  may  not  extract  at  least  necessary 
food,  so  there  is  scarcely  any  mind,  which,  under  proper  direction,  may  not 
learn  to  speak  in  a  correct,  interesting,  and  impressive  manner.  The  immense 
differences  which  we  observe  between  speakers  proceed  less  than  is  imagined, 
from  a  natural  inequality,  and  much  more  than  we  imagine,  from  that  other 
inequality  which  depends  on  human  will  and  human  effort.  This  seems  just, 
and  as  it  should  be ;  and  it  is  true,  doubly  true,  as  to  pulpit  eloquence,  in 
which  the  moral  element  holds  so  considerable  a  space. 

But,  to  return  to  the  subject  which  gave  occasion  to  this  refiection ;  the 
power  with  which  certain  men  speak,  and  the  excellence  of  their  delivery, 
arise  in  a  great  measure  from  their  ability  to  put  themselves  perfectly  at  their 
ease  in  a  position  where  others  are  embarrassed.  If  confusion  paralyses  the 
faculties— self-possession  multiplies  them.  Of  two  men  who  encounter  any 
danger,  it  is  not  always  the  ablest  who  best  extricates  himself;  it  is  commonly 
he  who  keeps  himself  cool ;  and  the  greatest  genius  is  good  for  nothing  when 
frozen  by  fear.  Of  what  avail  would  the  best  faculties  be  to  you,  without  self- 
possession?  But  he  who  is  at  his  ease  says  just  what  he  intends,  and  just  as 
he  intends ;  reflects ;  checks  himself  in  a  moment,  if  necessary,  to  seek  a  word 
or  a  thought,  and  from  the  very  pause  borrows  some  natural  and  expressive 
accent  or  gesture  ;  takes  advantage  of  what  he  sees  and  hears,  and  in  a  word 
brings  into  use  all  his  resources  ;  which  is  saying  a  great  deal;  for  "  the  spirit 
of  man  is  the  candle  of  thp  Lord,  searching  all  the  inward  parts." 


400  APPENDIX. 

You  will,  perhaps,  tell  me,  that  this  confidence  to  which  I  exhort  you,  is 
rather  a  favor  to  be  wished  for,  than  a  disposition  to  be  enjoined ;  ti\at  it  is  the 
happy  fruit  of  temperament,  or  of  success,  or  of  native  talent ;  and  that  it  is 
not  every  one  that  chooses  who  can  be  at  his  ease.  I  grant  that  it  depends 
partly  on  temperament ;  and  this  is  a  reason  for  fortifying  it,  if  it  is  natu- 
rally timid :  so  on  success ;  and  this  is  a  reason  why  the  young  man  should 
use  all  pains  to  make  a  good  beginning  :  so  on  talent  itself;  and  this  is  a  reason 
for  improving  that  which  may  be  possessed.  But  there  is  another  element 
which  enters  into  this  ease  of  manner,  and  I  both  wish  it  for  you,  and  enjoin  it 
upon  you  ; — it  is  Faith.  Take  your  position  as  the  ambassador  of  Jesus  Christ, 
sent  by  God  to  treat  with  sinful  men  ;  believe  that  He  who  sends  you  will  not 
leave  you  to  speak  in  vain  ;  labor  for  the  salvation  of  those  whom  you  address, 
as  if  it  were  your  own ;  so  forget  yourself  to  see  only  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
salvation  of  your  hearers ;  you  will  then  tremble  more  before  God,  but  less 
before  men.  You  will  then  speak  with  liberty,  therefore  with  the  same  facility 
and  propriety  which  you  possess  in  the  other  circumstances  of  life.  If  our 
faith  were  perfect,  we  should  scarcely  be  in  more  danger  of  falling  into  false 
or  declamatory  tones,  than  if  we  were  crying  out  to  a  drowning  man  to  seize 
the  rope  which  is  thrown  out  to  save  him. 

I  attribute,  therefore,  the  inferiority  of  many  preachers,  in  oratorical  deliv- 
ery, partly  to  the  difficulty  of  public  and  continuous  discourses,  but  partly, 
also,  to  the  want  of  certain  moral  dispositions.  Hence  it  follows,  that  it  is  by 
assiduous  labor  and  by  spiritual  progress,  that  they  must  become  able  to  carry 
into  the  pulpit  the  same  powers  of  speech  which  they  enjoy  elsewhere.  But 
this  particular  question  has  diverted  us  too  far  from  our  subject ;  it  is  time  to 
return,  and  give  some  account  of  lohat  constitutes  the  art  of  recitation,  or 
acceptable  delivery. 

The  basis  of  every  art  is  nature,  but  nature  in  a  state  of  embellishment. 
The  basis  is  nature ;  poetry  and  eloquence  do  not  rest  on  conventional  rules; 
it  is  the  heart  and  the  mind  of  man — of  man  as  he  is — which  must  be  depicted, 
and  which  must  also  be  interested.  But  it  has  for  its  basis  nature  embellisfied, 
— idealized :  imitates  it,  but  it  does  not  copy.  When  Barth^lemy  describes 
to  us  the  massacres  of  September,  in  terms  which  cause  us  not  so  much  to 
understand,  as  to  behold  with  our  own  eyes ;  when  his  bloody  muse  has  no  other 
ambition  than  that  of  inspiring  the  same  horror  which  the  hideous  spectacle, 
to  which  he  delights  to  drag  us,  would  itself  have  produced ;  Barthulemy,  Avith 
all  his  genius,  has  been  false  to  his  art ;  here  is  neither  painting  nor  poetry, 
but  butchery. 

I  would  not  subject  myself  to  the  prepossession  of  a  mere  artistic  view,  iu 
treating  of  the  recitation  of  the  preachers.  Yet,  it  may  be  said,  iu  general, 
that  this  recitation  should  partake  equally  of  imitation  and  of  nature.  Listen 
to  those  who  speak  well ;  observe  them,  at  times,  when  they  are  not  observing 
themselves ;  retain  their  intonations,  and  transfer  them  to  your  delivery.  But 
while  you  adopt,  elevate  them  ;  imitate,  but  do  not  copy.  Do  not  talk  in  the 
pulpit.  Too  great  familiarity  is  almost  as  great  a  fault  as  declamation ;  more 
rare,  indeed,  but  nevertheless  occurring  among  certain  preachers,  and  espe- 
cially such  as  are  uneducated.    It  is  the  tone  of  good  conversation,  but  this 


THE  DELIVERY  CF  6EKMON8.  401 

tone  ennobled  and  exalted,  which  seems  to  me  to  be  the  ideal  of  oratorical 
delivery. 

From  these  general  considerations,  I  pass  to  those  exercises  which  are  soon 
to  occupy  us  ;  and  the  remainder  of  this  discourse  will  be  employed  in  giving 
some  DIRECTIONS,  first  for  the  physical^  and  then  for  the  moral  part  of  elocu- 
tion. 

We  have  just  said,  and  we  shall  have  occasion  to  repeat  it,  that  the  Physical 
Part  of  delivery  is  secondary,  because  it  is  instrumental.  In  public  speaking, 
as  in  all  the  operations  of  the  human  understanding,  the  organs  are  the  mere 
agents  of  the  mind.  But  these  agents  are  indispensable,  and  in  proportion  as 
they  obey  the  understanding,  other  things  being  equal,  will  the  delivery  be 
effective.  We  must  not,  therefore,  despise  the  physical  part  of  delivery.  We 
shall,  nevertheless,  be  brief  on  this  point,  where  every  one  will  be  able,  with 
the  aid  of  a  few  suggestions,  to  guide  himself. 

The  voice  should  be  exercised  frequently  and  carefully.  Endeavor  to  render 
your  voice  at  the  same  time  distinct,  strong,  sonorous,  and  flexible  ;  this  can 
be  attained  only  by  long  practice.  Labor  to  acquire  the  mastery  of  your  voice. 
He  who  possesses  this  faculty  will  find  resources  even  in  a  refractory  voice, 
and  will  produce  great  effects,  with  little  fatigue.  But  most  public  speakers 
are  the  slaves  of  their  voice ;  they  do  not  govern  it,  so  much  as  it  governs  them. 
In  this  case,  even  though  it  has  the  most  precious  qualities,  it  is  but  a  rebel- 
lious instrument.  No  one  need  fear  any  injury  to  the  chest  from  those  daily  ex- 
ercises which  are  necessary,  in  order  thus  to  subdue  and  discipline  the  voice. 
If  moderate,  they  will  on  the  contrary  strengthen  it ;  and  experienced  physi- 
cians recommend  recitation  and  singing  to  persons  of  delicate  habit.  The  most 
favorable  time  for  these  exercises,  is  an  hour  or  two  after  a  meal ;  the  stomach 
should  be  neither  full  nor  empty. 

After  the  care  of  the  voice  comes  that  of  pronunciation.  There  is  a  natural 
pronunciation ;  by  which  I  mean  that  utterance  of  the  elements  of  speech  which 
is  common  to  all  languages  ;  and  there  is  a  conventional  pronunciation,  or  that 
which  each  nation  adopts  for  the  words  of  its  own  tongue. 

The  student  should  begin  by  making  himself  perfectly  master  of  the  natural 
pronunciation,  and  learn  to  give  every  vowel  its  appropriate  sound,  and  to 
make  the  organic  motions  belonging  to  every  consonant.  The  latter  point  is 
the  more  important.  If  the  purity  of  the  vowel  sounds  conduce  much  to  the 
grace  of  discourse,  it  is  especially  the  articulation  of  the  consonants,  which 
gives  it  distinctness,  vigor,  and  expression.  A  man  Avho  articulates  well  can 
make  himself  heard  at  a  distance  without  vociferation,  even  though  he  lay  lit- 
tle stress  upon  the  vowels;  and  this  is  the  methjod  to  which  actors  have  re- 
course, when  they  make  dying  persons  speak  with  a  subdued  voice ;  they 
explode  the  consonant  while  they  retain  the  vowel  sound.  But  one  Avho  arti- 
culates badly  will  never  make  himself  heard  at  a  distance  ;  and  adding  force  to 
the  vowels  will  but  increase  the  confusion.  It  is,  further,  in  the  utterance  of 
consonants  thot  the  most  usual  impediments  and  other  faults  occur;  and  thero 
is  scarcely  any  one,  who  may  not,  on  strict  observation,  detect  himself  as  faulty 
in  some  particulars.  One  speaks  thickly,  he  pronounces  the  r  with  the  uvula 
and  in  the  throat,  instead  of  uttering  it  with  the  tongue,  against  the  palate. 


402  APPENDIX. 

Another  Hsps  i  in  pronouncing  the  s  he  protrudes  the  end  of  the  tongue  be- 
tween the  rows  of  teeth,  and  makes  the  English  th,  instead  of  a  pure  sibilation. 
Many  fail  in  the  ch  (English  sh),  substituting  an  s,  or  a  sort  of/,  or  an  awkward 
ch,  produced  by  an  oblique  portion  of  the  tongue.  There  is  no  one  of  these 
faults  which  may  not  be  corrected  by  perseverance.*  You  remember  the  ex- 
ample of  Demosthenes,  whose  principal  efforts  were  directed  to  the  develop- 
ment of  his  voice,  and  the  utterance  of  the  letter  r.  It  is  to  be  wished,  that 
it  were  more  customary  to  exercise  children,  at  an  eai-ly  age,  in  the  proper 
formation  of  sounds  and  use  of  their  organs;  there  might  thus  be  obtained 
without  trouble,  results  which  at  a  more  advanced  age  cost  immense  pains  and 
valuable  time. 

There  remains  another  point,  which  is  almost  entirely  neglected  by  public 
speakers,  and  which  has,  nevertheless,  great  importance  ;  it  is  the  art  oi  taking 
breath  at  the  right  time.  A  man  who  takes  breath  properly,  will  fatigue  himself 
less  in  speaking  three  or  four  hours,  as  certain  political  orators  do,  especially  in 
England,  than  another  in  half  an  hour  ;  and  the  orators  who  are  able  to  speak 
so  long,  are  either  men  who  have  studied  the  management  of  their  breath,  or 
men  who  speak  much,  but  who  speak  well ;  for  in  this  case,  respiration  regu- 
lates itself,  without  separate  thought,  just  as  in  conversation.  But  it  is  by  no 
means  the  same  when  one  recites  a  discourse  from  memory;  especially  if  it  is 
the  discourse  of  another ;  for  in  writing  we  take  care,  without  being  aware  of  it, 
to  adjust  the  length  of  the  periods  to  the  habitudes  of  our  lungs.  But  the  exer- 
cise in  which  it  is  most  difficult  to  breathe  aright,  as  being  that  which  is  furthest 
removed  from  the  natural  tone,  is  the  exercise  of  reading;  and  it  is  remarked 
that  one  is  wearied  much  sooner  by  reading  than  by  speaking.  There  are  very 
few  persons  who  can  bear  half  an  hour  of  reading  without  a  slight  incon- 
venience of  the  organ ;  but  there  are  many  who  can  speak  an  hour  without 
trouble.  The  point  of  the  difficulty  is  this,  to  time  the  respiration  so  as 
always  to  take  breath  a  moment  before  it  is  exhausted.  For  this  purpose,  it 
is  necessary  to  breathe  quite  often,  and  to  take  advantage  of  little  rests  in  the 
delivery.  It  might  be  feared  lest  this  necessity  should  injure  the  utterance 
and  make  it  frigid ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  rests  which  are  thus  employed  by 
one  who  is  exercised  so  as  to  use  them  properly,  are  as  expressive  as  the 
voice  itself;  the  slowness  which  they  communicate  to  the  discourse  is  only 
that  slowness  which  gives  more  weight  and  vigor  to  the  thought ;  so  this 
happy  infirmity  becomes  an  additional  power. 

It  is,  lastly,  by  breathing  seasonably,  that  the  speaker  will  avoid  a  fault 
which  is  very  common  and  very  great ;  that  of  letting  the  voice  fall  at  the  end 
of  sentences,  which  renders  the  recitation  at  the  same  time  indistinct  and 
monotonous.  This  is  the  abuse  of  the  rule  which  is  pointed  out  by  nature.  It 
Is  natural  to  lower  the  voice  slightly  at  the  moment  of  finishing  a  sentence,  at 
least  in  most  cases;  for  there  are  certain  thoughts  which,  on  the  contrary, 
demand  an  elevation  of  the  voice  at  the  close.  But  the  fall  is  made  too  per- 
ceptible, and  is  taken  from  too  great  a  height,  so  that  there  are  often  three  or 

*  The  difficulty  with  regard  to  the  r  is  one  which  is  least  easily  removed.  Yet  it  may 
be  eCfected  by  pronouncing  d  instead  of  r  for  some  time.  Excellent  teachers  declare 
this  expedient  to  be  infallible. 


THE  DELIVERY  OF  SEKMONS.  403 

four  words  wliicli  the  licarcr  catches  with  difficulty,  or  does  not  catch  at  all. 
This  would  be  bad  enough,  even  without  the  additional  evil,  that  the  expres- 
sion is  weakened  at  the  same  time  with  the  voice.  As  a  general  rule,  the 
voice  should  be  kept  up  to  the  end  of  the  sentence,  excepting  only  that  slight 
depression  and,  as  it  were,  reflexion  which  denote  that  the  sense  is  ter- 
minated. But  to  do  this,  you  must  breathe  in  time  ;  as  it  is,  because  the  lungs 
are  exhausted  that  you  must  lower  the  voice  ;  for,  where  there  is  no  breath, 
there  is  no  sound. 

I  come  now  to  some  directions  as  to  the  Moral  Part  of  delivery. 

The  expression  sufficiently  shows  the  point  of  view  under  which  we  consider 
the  whole  art  of  recitation,  and  in  which  we  find  the  fundamental  principle 
which  supports  all  our  rules.  The  principle  is  this:  delivery  has  its  resi- 
dence, not  in  the  mouth,  but  in  the  sentiment  and  the  thought.  It  depends  less 
on  the  voice  than  on  the  soul.  I  should  have  been  in  danger  of  being  misunder- 
stood if  I  had  not  begun  by  making  some  reservation  in  favor  of  the  vocal  part 
of  delivery.  This  I  am  far  from  wishing  to  sacrifice.  But  now  I  assume  an 
instrument  fully  exercised,  an  organ  flexible  and  strong,  a  good  pronunciation, 
distinct  articulation,  and  easy  respiration.  "When  this  previous  training  is 
accomplished,  and  when  the  moment  has  come  for  actual  speaking,  remember 
that  the  delivery  is  above  all  an  affair  of  the  soul ;  and  make  it  as  independent 
OS  possible  of  your  organs.  It  is  at  bottom,  the  soul  of  the  speaker,  which 
addresses  the  soul  of  the  hearer.  The  organs  of  speech,  on  the  one  part,  and 
the  organs  of  hearing  on  the  other,  are  but  intermediates  between  the  mind  of 
him  who  speaks  and  the  mind  of  of  him  who  hears.  The  more  free  one  makes 
this  communication,  the  more  one  forgets  the  organ,  so  as  to  bring  out 
nothing  but  the  soul,  the  better  will  be  the  elocution.  Let  the  soul,  the  entire 
soul,  with  its  constant  unity,  as  well  as  with  its  infinite  movements,  look 
through  the  utterance,  like  the  bottom  of  a  stream,  through  perfectly  limpid 
water  ;  so  limpid  that  it  seems  not  to  exist.  The  organs  should  be  such  docile 
and  faithful  interpreters  of  the  thought,  as  to  seem  not  to  be  present ;  they 
should  obey  to  a  degree  of  self-concealment.  This  is  their  glory  and  their 
mission ;  and  the  realizing  of  this  ideal  would  infer  the  perfection,  as  well  of 
the  organ,  as  of  the  sentiment.  This  is  according  to  our  fuudamentul  prin- 
ciple, viz. :  "  It  is  the  soul  that  should  speak.^^  We  proceed  now  to  deduce 
from  this  certain  general  directions  : 

I. — The  delivery  should  be  true,  or  just ;  it  should  give  to  each  thought  and 
each  sentiment  the  tone  which  belongs  to  it.  Why  is  such  a  tone  proper  to 
such  an  emotion  of  the  soul?  Why,  for  example,  do  we  raise  the  voice  at  the 
beginning  of  a  sentence,  and  let  it  fall  at  the  end,  when  we  ask  a  question  to 
which  an  answer  is  expected  ?  Why  do  we  invert  the  method,  iu  that  species 
of  questions  which  require  no  answer,  and  which  are  only  another  form  of 
affirmation?  Why  does  a  certain  intonation  mark  a  simple  assertion,  another 
a  doubt,  another  surprise,  another  anger,  and  the  like  ?  This  is  a  question 
which  we  cannot  answer.  We  are  assured  it  is  so  in  nature :  to  observe  and 
to  reproduce  it,  is  the  business  of  elocution.  But  to  explain  the  secret  relation 
which  exists  between  the  movements  of  the  mind  and  the  inflections  of  the 


404  APPENDIX. 

voice,  is  more  fhan  any  one  can  do,  if  we  except  Him  wlio  formed  botli  tlie 
human  soul  and  tlie  organs  wliicli  serve  to  communicate  its  impressions.  That 
there  are,  in  regard  to  this,  fixed  and  well-determined  laws,  is  sufficiently  proved 
by  the  two  following  observations.  In  the  first  place,  all  men,  without  except- 
ing tliose  who  never  practise  public  speaking,  recognize  just  inflection,  when 
they  hear  it :  the  dramatic  art  is  founded  on  this  remark.  In  the  second  place, 
there  are  certain  inflections  which  may  be  called  primitive,  and  which  remain 
invariable  ;  when  we  pass  from  one  nation  and  idiom  to  another,  notwithstand- 
ing the  infinite  diversity  of  all  that  is  conventional. 

But  how  are  we  to  discover  these  accents  of  nature  ?  The  first  means,  which 
offers  itself  to  the  mind,  is  to  observe  them  in  others ;  it  is  excellent ;  but  we 
cannot  employ  it  in  every  case.  We  do  not  always  find  an  occasion  to  hear 
precisely  this  or  that  word,  or  sentence,  about  which  we  are  embarrassed,  pro- 
nounced by  good  speakers.  I  suppose  the  case  therefore  where  we  are  left  to 
ourselves.  How  are  we  to  discover  the  accents  of  nature  ?  I  answer,  we  must 
seek  them  in  the  soul.  We  must  begin  by  discerning  the  inward  impression ; 
and  this  impression,  well  caught,  will  conduct  us  to  the  intonation.  This  is  the 
first  consequence  of  the  general  principle  which  we  have  laid  down  above,  or 
rather  it  is  only  the  principle  itself  put  into  practice. 

It  is  not  meant  that  random  trials  must  be  made  of  all  sorts  of  intonations, 
or  that  bursts  of  voice  must  be  uttered  at  hazard.  We  must  sit  down,  reflect, 
comprehend,  feel,  and  silently  interrogate  the  mind  and  heart.  It  is  not  till 
after  this  inward  labor,  that  the  essays  of  the  voice  will  be  useful:  they  will 
succeed  in  clearing  and  animating  the  movement  of  mind  which  gave  them 
birth.  By  these  means,  one  may  gradually  arrive  at  the  true  tone,  which  once 
found,  and  especially  found  in  this  way,  will  abide  in  the  soul's  memory,  and 
will  return  and  present  itself  at  the  moment  of  necessity.  A  very  useful 
method  of  aiding  in  this  research,  is  to  translate  the  thought  into  other  terms, 
more  familiar  than  those  of  the  discourse  ;  or,  which  is  still  better,  to  inquire 
how  one  would  utter  an  analogous  sentiment  in  the  ordinary  course  of  life. 
This  care  in  tracing  the  language  to  the  thought,  and  questioning  the  soul  con- 
cerning the  inflections  of  the  voice,  is  the  more  necessary,  from  the  fact,  that 
the  same  sentence  or  the  same  word,  is  susceptible  of  a  multitude  of  inflections, 
which  the  mind  alone  can  distinguish,  perceiving  as  it  does  the  most  delicate 
relations,  while  the  diction  and  the  pen  have  but  a  single  expression  for  the 
whole. 

Take  a  word — the  most  insignificant  you  can  find — a  proper  name,  for  instance 
— and  this,  if  you  please,  a  monosyllable,  as  Paul.  For  writing  and  for  language, 
there  is  but  this  one  word,  Paul;  but  there  are  ten,  twenty,  an  infinity,  for  the 
soul,  and  the  organ  it  inspires.  By  the  mere  way  in  which  an  intelligent 
speaker,  or  better  still,  one  who  speaks  without  observing  how,  utters  this 
name,  and  without  waiting  for  him  to  add  anything,  you  will  be  able  to  discern 
whether  he  be  about  to  ])raise  or  to  blame  ;  to  tell  good  news,  or  bad ;  to  en- 
courage a  design,  or  to  depart  from  it ;  to  call  one  afar  off,  or  at  hand ;  to 
question,  or  to  repel.  We  should  never  end,  if  we  should  try  to  enumerate  all 
the  thoughts  which  may  be  included  in  the  utterance  of  this  little  name.  Now, 
amidst  this  infinite  variety,  what  rule  shall  guide  us  ?    What  other  than  that 


THE    DELIVERS    OF   SERMONS.  405 

the  mind,  well  exercised  and  correct,  will  find  in  delivery,  the  tone  wliich  suits 
the  occasion  and  the  moment  of  speaking?  I  cannot,  then,  repeat  too  often, 
speak  ex  amino  (out  of  the  soul).  Perhaps  you  think  this  is  a  matter  of  course, 
and  that  the  advice  is  unimportant.  But  practice  will  convince  you  that  it  is 
not  so.  ' 

Let  me  be  allowed  to  cite  the  authority  of  a  man,  who,  received  from  God  a 
rare  genius,  which,  unfortunately,  he  squandered  on  vanities — I  mean  Talma  ; 
listen  to  his  own  exposition,  given  in  private  to  some  of  his  friends;  for  he 
wrote  nothing  of  importance  on  his  art.  It  will  be  seen  that  his  mode  of  pre- 
paration was  that  of  which  I  have  been  speaking ;  and  it  may  be  believed,  that 
one  of  the  causes  of  that  reform  which  he  wrought  in  theatric  delivery,  was 
the  care  which  he  bestowed,  in  searching  for  inflections  in  his  soul,  and  in  em- 
ploying his  organs  only  as  docile  instruments,  destined  to  reproduce  the  inter- 
nal impressions.* 

The  intonations  being  found,  we  must  give  it  a  degree  of  intensity  greater 
than  one  would  employ  in  conversation.  From  this  comes  the  energy  of  public 
discourse.  It  is  needless  to  say,  this  energy  should  bear  a  proportion  to  the 
nature  of  the  subject.  It  will  be  at  one  time  the  energy  of  argument,  at 
another  the  energy  of  passion ;  but  it  will  always  be  the  energy  of  propriety 
and  of  truth.  This  utterance,  at  once  accurate  and  firm,  these  inflections,  true 
and  struck  out  with  precision,  have  a  peculiar  charm  for  the  hearer,  and  can 
make  a  discourse  interesting  from  beginning  to  end,  even  in  the  least  animated 
parts. 

II.  The  delivery  should  be  simple,  or  natural.  In  speaking  from  the  soul,  ' 
one  will  speak  simply— for  the  soul  is  simple.  It  is  only  the  presence  of  man 
which  can  make  us  affected  ;  when  alone  we  are  always  simple,  for  the  single 
reason,  that  then  we  are  ourselves.  The  accents  of  the  soul  are  those  of  nature. 
It  is  these  which  we  are  to  reproduce  ;  and  we  must  take  care  not  to  substitute 
for  these  the  accents  of  conventional  artifice,  ot  of  arbitrary  choice.  It  is  ne- 
cessary that  the  hearer  should  recognize  himself,  and  that  the  instinct  of  his 
nature  should  be  satisfied  with  each  of  our  inflections.  In  other  words,  we 
must  speak,  a-id  not  declaim.  I  have  already  said,  elevate,  ennoble  the  tone 
of  conversation  and  of  common  life  ;  but  while  you  elevate,  do  not  forsake  it. 
An  able  painter  does  not  slavishly  copy  the  traits  of  his  model ;  he  idealizes 
them,  and  transfers  them  to  the  canvas  only  after  he  has  subjectecl  them  to  a 
sort  of  transfiguration  in  his  brain  ;  but  even  while  idealizing  thcni,  h«  so  imi- 
tates them,  that  they  may  be  recognized  at  once.    Thus  it  is  that  a  portrait 

*  "  It  has  Ijeen  imagined,  even  by  enlijrhtened  minds,  that  in  studying  my  parts,  I 
phice  myself  before  a  gUiss,  as  a  model  before  a  painter  in  his  atelier.  According  to  them, 
I  gesticulate,  I  shake  tlie  ceiling  of  the  room  with  my  cries  ;  in  tlie  evening,  on  the  stage, 
I  uttei-  the  intonations  learned  in  the  morning,  prepared  inflections,  and  sobs  of  winch  I 
know  the  number;  imitating  Crecenlini,  who,  in  his  Uomeo,  evinces  a  desi)air  scorejL  ^ 
beforehand  in  a  passage  sung  a  hundred  times  over  at  home,  with  a  piano  accomi)ann' 
ment.  It  is  an  error:  reflection  is  one  of  the  greatest  parts  of  my  labor;  followuig  the 
example  of  the  poet,  I  walk,  I  muse,  or  even  seat  myself  on  the  margin  of  my  little 
river;  like  the  poet,  I  rub  my  forehead,  it  is  the  only  gesture  I  allow  myself,  and  then 
you  know  t  is  bv  no  means  one  of  the  grandest.  Oh  !  how  a  thing  beconnng  historical, 
remains  true  !  If  any  one  should  inquire  how  I  have  found  the  greater  part  of  my  great 
est  successes,  I  should  reply,  'By  constantly  thinking  of  them."'— (^'^'W^*  desJamiUfS. 
Cvol.  p.  124) 


406  APPENDIX. 

may  be  a  perfect  likeness,  and  yet  more  beautiful  than  tlie  original.  The  same 
thing  occurs  in  good  speaking.  The  tones  of  common  parlance  are  embel- 
lished, and  yet  they  are  perfectly  recognizable,  because  their  essence  is  care- 
fully preserved.  But  to  declaim,  to  take  a  ncAv  tone,  because  one  is  in  the 
pulpit — in  fine,  to  speak  as  no  one  ever  speaks,  is  a  grievous  fault;  ivhile, 
strange  to  say,  it  is  a  fault  very  common,  very  hard  to  avoid,  and  which,  per- 
haps, none  of  us  escapes  altogether.  For  it  is  far  easier  to  assume  a  sustained 
and  unaltering  tone,  than,  step  by  step,  to  follow  thought  and  sentiment  in 
their  infinite  sinuosities ;  and  then,  there  are  never  wanting  hearers  of  bad 
taste,  for  whom  the  pomp  of  language  is  imposing.  Nevertheless,  consulting 
only  the  human  effect  of  your  preaching — if  this  consideration  were  not  un- 
worthy— the  man  who  speaks  in  the  pulpit  will  rise  above  him  who  declaims. 
Even  those  who  at  first  suffer  themselves  to  be  dazzled  by  the  cadence  of 
periods,  and  the  outbreaks  of  voice,  at  length  grow  weary,  and  are  less  pleased 
with  the  artificial  preacher  than  with  him  whose  very  tones  make  them  feel 
that  he  thinks  all  that  he  says.  And  what  shall  I  say  of  the  real  and  useful 
effect  produced  by  these  two  preachers  ?  How  much  more  directly,  nay,  ex- 
clusively, will  the  latter  find  his  way  to  the  heart  and  conscience  !  How  will 
his  vehement  parts  be  relieved  by  the  calm  and  simple  tone  of  his  habitual 
manner  !  How  much  more  truly  will  he  be  what  he  ought,  in  the  sight  both  of 
God  and  of  man,  by  continuing  to  be  himself,  and  not  stepping  aside  from  truth 
in  announcing  truth ! 

Yes,  if  you  would  have  a  pulpit  delivery  which  shall  be  dignified  and  Chris- 
tian, and  which  shall  make  deep  impression,  speak  always  with  simplicity.  Say 
things  as  you  feel  them.  Put  no  more  warmth  into  your  manner  than  you  have 
in  your  heart.  This  honesty  in  speaking — allow  me  the  expression — will  con- 
strain you  to  introduce  a  more  sincere  and  profound  warmth  than  you  would 
*iverhave  attained  in  any  other  way.  It  will,  besides,  have  a  salutary  reaction 
on  your  writing,  and  even  on  your  soul.  For,  displaying  things  as  they  are.  it 
will  bring  your  faults  to  light,  and  admonish  you  to  correct  them. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  pulpit.  If  it  had  been  proper  here  to  speak  of  the 
Btage,  many  similar  observations  might  be  made.  Great  actors  no  longer  de- 
claim ;  they  speak.  Talma,  whom  I  have  so  often  named,  began  by  declaiming, 
as  do  others.  An  interesting  circumstance  made  him  feel  the  necessity  of 
adopting  a  new  manner,  more  conformed  to  nature :  and  from  that  day  he  be- 
came another  man,  in  regard  to  his  art,  and  produced  extraordinary  effects. 
Those  who  have  heard  him  will  tell  you  that  the  extreme  simplicity  of  his  play- 
ing astonished  them  at  first,  and  that  they  were  tempted  to  take  him  for  a  very 
ordinary  man,  whose  only  advantage  over  others  consisted  in  a  magnificent 
voice.  But  they  were  soon  subdued  by  the  power  of  nature ;  and  the  vivid  im- 
pressions by  which  they  were  seized,  made  them  understand  that  the  very  sim 
^licity  of  his  acting  constituted  its  force,  as  well  as  its  originality:.* 

*  "  We  were,"  it  is  Talma  who  speaks,  "  rhetoricians  and  not  dramatic  personages, 
now  many  academic  discourses  on  the  stage  !  How  few  words  of  simplicity  !  But,  one 
evening,  chance  threw  me  into  a  parlor  with  the  leaders  of  the  Gironde  party;  their 
sombre  and  disquieted  appearance  attracted  my  attention.  There  were  written  there,  in 
visible  characters,  great  and  mighty  interests.    As  they  were  too  much  men  of  heart  to 


THE    DELIVERY    OF    SEIIMONS.  407 

III.  The  delivery  should  be  varied.  We  know  how  monolonous  it  is  in 
general;  and  though  every  one  feels  the  grossness  of  the  fault,  few  succeed 
in  avoiding  it.  The  best  means  of  doing  so,  is  to  observe  our  ininciplc  of 
recitation  from  the  soul.  The  soul  is  all  full  of  variety.  If  there  are  no  two 
leaves  on  a  tree  exactly  alike,  still  less  are  there  two  sentiments  in  a  human 
soul  which  are  perfectly  identical.  Listen  to  a  man  engaged  in  animated 
conversation;  you  will  be  confounded  at  the  marvellous  flexibility  of  H»e 
human  mind,  and  the  infinity  of  shades  to  which  it  can  adapt  itself  by  turns. 
All  this  the  vocal  organ  will  deliver,  if  it  confine  itself  to  follow  the  move- 
ments of  the  soul.  It  must,  therefore,  be  conceded,  that  there  is  no  reason 
why  any  one  should  be  monotonous  in  recitation.  Take  account  of  the  sense 
of  each  sentence,  of  each  member  of  a  sentence,  you  will  discover  a  perpetual 
mobility  in  the  thought,  and  will  need  only  to  infuse  abundance  of  truth  into 
your  delivery,  to  insure  for  it  abundance  of  variety.  There  is,  in  particular, 
a  kind  of  variety  -which  will  be  found  in  this  way,  and  which  will  spread  itself 
over  all  the  rest ;  I  mean  variety  in  regard  to  rapidity  of  delivery.  It  is  natu- 
ral to  speak  sometimes  slow,  and  sometimes  fast ;  sometimes,  even  very  slow, 
and  sometimes  very  fast.  Here  is  a  word  on  which  one  must  dwell  a  moment; 
here,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  sentence  which  must  be  exploded,  rather  than 
recited,  and  which  must  be  pronounced  with  all  the  rapidity  of  which  the 
organs  are  capable  in  consistency  with  precise  articulation.  An  elocution 
which  levels  these  inequalities,  and  in  which  every  sentence  takes  its  turn 
with  a  measure  always  equal,  and  almost  with  the  same  rhythm,  contradicts 
nature,  and  loses  half  its  resources.  This  monotony  must  be  broken,  at  all 
hazards.  Better  even  would  it  be  to  employ  excessive  action  and  abrnpt 
transitions,  though  this  extreme  must  also  be  avoided,  because  it  gives  the 
delivery  a  theatrical  air,  or  rather  because  by  exaggerating  the  nature  it  falsi- 
fies it.  In  general,  we  speak  too  fast,  much  too  fast.  When  any  one  speaks, 
the  thoughts  and  sentiments  do  not  come  to  him  all  at  once :  they  rise  in 
his  mind  by  little  and  little.  Now,  this  labor  and  this  delay  should  appear 
in  the  delivery,  or  it  will  always  fail  of  being  natural.  Take  your  time  to 
reflect,  to  feel,  to  let  ideas  come ;  and  do  not  make  your  elocution  preci- 
pitate, except  when  determined  so  to  do  by  some  peculiar  consideration. 
This  necessary  rapidity  will  give  greater  movement  and  vivacity  to  tlie  deli- 
allow  these  interests  to  be  tainted  with  selfishness,  I  saw  them  manifest  proofs  of  the 
dangers  of  the  country.  All  were  assembled  for  pleasure,  yet  no  one  thought  of  it.  Dis- 
cussion ensued,  they  touched  the  most  thrilling  questions  of  the  crisis.  It  was  beautiful. 
I  imagined  myself  present  at  a  secret  deliberation  of  the  Roman  Senate.  'It  is  thus,' 
tlionglit  I,  'that  men  should  speak.  The  country,  whether  it  he  named  France  or  Home, 
employs  the  same  accents,  the  same  language :  if  then  the}'  do  not  declaim  here,  neither 
did  they  declaim  in  the  olden  time,  it  is  evident.'  These  reflections  made  me  more 
attentive.  Wy  impressions,  though  produced  by  a  conversation  devoid  of  all  violent 
manner  (emphase),  became  profound.  '  An  apparent  calmness  in  these  men,'  thoujibt 
I,  '  agitates  the  soul ;  eloquence,  then,  can  have  force,  without  throwing  the  l)ody  into"' 
disorderly  movements?'  I  even  perceived  that  discourse,  uttered  without  effort  or  out- 
cry, renders  the  gesture  more  energetic  and  gives  more  expres.<<ion  to  the  countenatjoe. 
All  these  deputies,  thus  assembled  before  me,  appeared  far  more  eloquent  than  at  the 
tribune,  where,  finding  themselves  a  spectacle,  they  thought  it  necessary  to  utter  their 
harangues  in  the  manner  of  actors,  of  such  actors  as  we  then  were,  that  is  to  say,  of 
declaimers,  fraught  with  turpidity.  From  that  moment  I  caught  new  light  ud  saw  my 
art  regenerated."— (Jfifse'e  des  families,  ibid.  p.  2S0.) 


408  APPENDIX. 

very;  but  that  other  rapidity,  "which  arises  only  from  embarrassment  and 
want  of  intelligence  or  reflection,  confounds  all  the  inequalities  of  thought, 
and  engenders  a  manner  which  is  effeminate,  dull,  lifeless,  and  uninteresting. 

IV.  Together  with  variety,  the  delivery  should  present  another  condition, 
without  which  this  variety  will  itself  be  without  connection  and  support ;  it  is 
that  of  unity.  The  delivery  should  be  one.  In  other  words,  we  must  use  an 
effort  to  have  a  recitation  d'ensemble,  which  results  again  from  the  principle 
which  we  laid  down  in  the  outset.  For,  if  the  words  are  manifold,  the  thought 
is  one  and  indivisible  in  the  mind.  If  we  were  pure  spiri-ts,  we  could  communi 
cate  it  to  other  spirits  of  the  same  nature,  without  decomposition.  But 
being  constrained  to  clothe  it  in  words,  we  are  constrained  to  dismember  it, 
and,  from  being  simple  in  our  soul,  it  becomes  multiplied  in  language.  To 
seize  and  transmit  to  the  hearer  this  sole  thought,  to  rise  from  language  to  the 
soul,  and  from  the  multiplicity  of  words  to  the  simplicity  of  intellect,  is  the 
great  work  of  a  good  delivery.  Collecting,  then,  into  one  general  sentiment, 
the  various  sentiments  of  which  I  have  said  so  much,  it  will  deserve  the  defini- 
tion which  has  been  given  of  the  Beautiful,  "  Unity  in  variety,  or  variety  in 
Tinity." 

This  is  not  to  be  accomplished,  however,  always  in  the  same  manner.  In 
general,  we  shall,  in  a  well-constructed  sentence,  avoid  giving  prominence  to 
this  or  that  word ;  causing  the  whole  of  it,  rather  to  stand  forth  alike,  and 
supporting  it  to  the  end.  For  it  is  the  genius  of  our  language  to  accent 
constantly,  but  lightly,  the  end  of  every  word,  and  consequently  also  the  end 
of  every  sentence.  There  are,  nevertheless,  certain  cases  where  one  is 
obliged  to  give  a  saliency  to  some  words,  or  even  to  a  single  word,  because 
this  word  comprises  the  capital  idea.  Even  then,  however,  such  words  should 
predominate  over  the  sentence,  but  not  absorb  it.  It  is  the  thought  which 
should  always  appear,  and  always  in  its  unity.  A  delivery  which  is  broken, 
jerking,  rising  and  falling  by  turns,  is  bad  indeed.  .... 

I  might  add  other  counsels,  but  these  are  such  as  experience  shows  to  be 
most  useful ;  and  by  means  of  the  illustrations  which  we  have  commenced, 
you  will  yourselves  be  able  to  make  other  applications  of  one  general  prin- 
ciple, to  which  we  must  continually  return,  and  in  which  are  embodied  all  the 
directions  we  have  given. 

I  have  said  nothing  about  gestures.  It  is  a  subject  by  itself,  and  one  which 
I  have  not  time  to  treat  at  present.  Let  me  merely  say,  that  the  preacher 
should  make  few  gestures,  and  these  of  a  very  simple  kind,  and  further,  that 
they  should  be  dictated  by  the  emotions  of  the  soul,  as  well  as  by  the  inflections 
of  the  voice. 

To  sum  up  what  I  have  said,  if  you  wish  to  attain  to  a  good  deliver}',  begin 
by  preparing  your  mind  and  your  heart.  Then,  by  reflection,  with  the  aid  of 
♦■  observation,  search  for  the  inflections  of  the  soul,  and  oblige  your  organs  to 
conform  to  these,  humbly  and  exactly.  As  to  the  rest,  be  persuaded  you  will 
speak  all  tke  better,  the  more  you  sink  yourselves ;  that  the  best  delivery  is 
that  which  turns  attention  away  from  the  orator,  and  fixes  it  upon  what  he 
says ;  and  finally,  that  the  highest  point  of  the  art,  especially  in  the  case  of 
the  preacher,  is  to  cause  himself  to  be  forgotten. 


Date  Due 

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